Lasagna is Always the Answer
by TheMortition
Summary: A little game of seven minutes in heaven leaves Ireland wondering if Italy truly wants to be in a relationship with him. Although, when things start to look up, another surprise awaits them. One Ireland isn't sure he can take. Rated T just in case.
1. You're Invited!

Okay, first Hetalia fic. Sorry if it sucks or doesn't seem right. By the way, you're going to need to read this bit of information or else you'll be so confused when reading this.

This is my OC and what you need to know about him as you're reading:

Nation: Ireland

Name: Seamus O'Conner (he use to be a Kirkland before he gained his independence)

Age: Looks like he's 25-years-old.

Description: Short orange hair (it's straight in the front but very messy in the back [no, not like emo/scene hair]), green eyes, green rimmed glasses, bushy eyebrows, freckles along his face, a green shirt with a black clover on it, brown cargo shorts, green and black striped socks that go to below his knees, and brown boots.

Interests: Leprechauns, superstitions, potatoes, the color green, beer, singing/humming random songs.

Dislikes: Certain nations, Friday the 13th, bad omens.

Family: Brothers are Scotland, Wales, England, and Northern Ireland.

Friends: Russia, the Bad Friends Trio, Germany, leprechauns.

**Warning:** Yaoi, maybe some OOC-ness, Irish stereotypes (I don't mean to offend if I hurt anyone's feelings), human names used, maybe a spoiler here and there, and I'm too serious so this fic may be less comedic.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Hetalia: Axis Powers, I wouldn't be writing any of this. I'd be busy making this become an episode, which I can't do because I don't have the skills or ideas of its respective creator, Hidekaz Himaruya. Simply put.

* * *

Ireland sat on England's couch, waiting for him to finish making the tea. England had invited him over earlier for afternoon tea. He normally doesn't invite many people over, so Ireland saw this as a pretty good sign to visit.

Ever since Ireland won his independence from the United Kingdom, he and England haven't gotten along. Well, they were like that before he broke away from him, but it was a little worse afterwards. Lately, though, they have been trying to get along. They're both slowly progressing back into being brotherly affectionate like they use to be (that is, before Ireland was forced to join the United Kingdom).

While England was taking his time with the tea, Ireland was talking to England's magical creatures. Ireland, like England, has been able to see magical creatures since he was young. He often sees leprechauns more than anything else, though. Despite being broken away from the United Kingdom, England's creatures were okay being around him.

"Tea's ready," England said, walking in with the tray. Ireland smiled at his younger brother as he sat down and put the tray on the coffee table between them.

After pouring the tea and putting whatever amount of milk they desired, they started having a nice conversation. It use to be a rare moment for them to be nice to each other since they either avoided one another or argued. But, at the same time, this wasn't a regular occurance. They were both fairly busy so they usually don't have a lot of time to spend together.

"So, how's Northern Ireland been doing?" Ireland asked. Northern Ireland is his younger twin brother who decided to stay with the UK instead of fight with him for independence. The separation put a huge strain on their bond as brothers, causing a huge grudge between them. They rarely ever talk to each other unless it's something important or they're forced to.

"He's doing all right," replied England.

"And our other brothers?"

"They're doing fine as well."

"That's good." Unlike England, Ireland got along with his brothers before separating from the UK. He still talks to Scotland and Wales but they're also pretty busy.

They started getting onto a conversation about America. England was ranting on about his arrogance, his eating habits, his lack of thinking things through, etc. Ireland was agreeing with him at certain points. He was okay with America to an extent.

As England kept ranting about it, Ireland's phone went off. He pulled it out and checked the caller I.D.

"Well, speak of the devil," Ireland muttered.

"What does he want all of a sudden?"

"Who knows?" Ireland answered it to hear America yell _"Hey, Ireland!" _into the phone.

"Hello, America," Ireland said more calmly and at a lower volume, "What's going on?"

_"I called to tell you you're invited to my party Saturday!"_

"A party? What's the occasion?"

_"You don't always need a reason to party! You can throw one just because!"_

"Eh... Okay..."

_"So, I'll see you here at 4:00-"_

"Wait! Hold on a second! I didn't say I was coming!"

_"Ah, come on, Ireland! It'll be really fun!"_

"I've got things to do Saturday."

_"But I have beer!"_

"America, you know I don't like your beer."

_"No! There are different drinks here too!"_ Ireland paused for a moment. England raised an eyebrow at him.

"Will there be German beer?"

_"Yes!"_

"Wine?"

_"Since France is coming, of course!"_

"Vodka?"

_"Well, I couldn't not invite Russia, so yes!"_ Ireland sat there silently for a moment and thought to himself.

_Let's see... On one hand, he has a lot of alcohol. But that also means I have to put up with him all night. But then again, some of my friends will be there so I won't be completely bored. Although, it is America's party so who knows what he'll be up to?_

Finally, Ireland makes his decision and says, "I think I might delay my plans for a bit to go to your party..."

_"Awesome! Like I said, be here at 4:00 and bring a small item!"_

"A... small item? What for?"

_"It's a surprise! It has to be small enough to fit in a hat!"_

"Ummmmmm... okay... sure..."

_"Okay! See you then!" _America hung up and Ireland put his phone away.

"One of his bloody parties?" England asked.

"Yep."

"And you're only going for the drinks."

"Umm-hmmm."

"You'll never change, Ireland." England chuckled.

"Are you saying you'd rather have a different me?" Ireland faked being shocked and put his hands on either side of his face.

"Maybe..."

"England! You're so cruel!" They laughed at their little joke until England's phone rang. He looked at the caller I.D. and sighed. Answering it, he said with a very exasperated look on his face, "Yes, I know. You're hosting a party and you want to invite me."

_"How did you know?" _Ireland could hear America's voice through the phone from across the coffee table.

"Ireland is sitting right in front of me."

_"Really? Since when did you two become close?" _England looked like he was about to throw his phone across the room.

"That's beside the point! So, be there at 4:00, bring a small object, right?"

_"Yeah! See you there!"_

"Bloody idiot..." England ended the call and put it back in his pocket. When he faced Ireland again he looked really annoyed.

"You know," Ireland stated, "You could've turned him down."

"Yeah, but he'd keep asking until I agreed out of frustration."

"Hmmmm, true..."

"Besides, he might've tried to tempt me like he did to you."

"He didn't tempt me. I just can't pass up an opportunity to drink like a madman. Plus, he's providing them. It's better than going to the store."

"If you say so."

After finishing their tea, Ireland said good-bye to England and went home. He was feeling a little happier visiting England. He was also glad to hear that England was going to America's party too. It might let the two have more time to spend together. Even if France was going to be there, they could still try to enjoy each other's company.


	2. Let's Play a Game

Ireland and England entered the huge house to see the usual scenes of America's parties. People were everywhere, loud music was playing from the living room, there were snacks laid out for everyone, and there was a little bar with different types of drinks like America said. Ireland headed straight to it but was stopped by America.

"Seamus! Arthur! You made it!" he yelled over the music.

_For once, he's yelling when necessary,_ England and Ireland thought.

"Of course we're here!" Ireland replied, "Why wouldn't we be?"

"You're just saying that so you can hurry up and get a drink," England muttered beside him. Ireland gave him a quick glare before turning his attention back to America.

"Well, America, I'll just-"

"Hey, it's a party! You don't have to be so formal, Seamus!"

"He's right," a voice said behind them. Ireland and England looked behind them to see France just arriving. "We don't have to use our country names tonight even if we're all gathered here."

Hearing this, a sudden thought ran through Ireland's head. He smiled, patted America on the shoulder, and yelled loudly, "All right then, Freddy Boy!" America blushed, England chuckled a little, and France looked at them in slight confusion.

When America was still England's colony Ireland gave him the nickname 'Freddy Boy.' Since America never explained what the F in his name stood for, Ireland decided to tease him about it by calling him Freddy. Later on he thought it would be cute to add boy on the end of it. He would address America as this whenever they were around each other. America was always embarrassed by the nickname which made Ireland feel the need to always call him that. Though, now he only calls him that at rare moments when he decides to say a country's human name.

"Seamuuuuuus!" America whined, "I told you not to call me that!"

"Once you tell me what the F in your name means, I'll stop calling you that."

"I'm going somewhere else for awhile," England announced.

"Not yet! You brought a small item, didn't you?" America asked. England pulled out a folded up piece of paper from his front pocket and held it up for him to see. America thrust a hat in front of his face. "It's for the party, remember?" England sighed and let the piece of paper fall into the hat. He walked off without another word.

America turned to Ireland and put the hat in front of him. He pulled out a key chain with a clover hanging from it and put it in the hat. France also had a folded up piece of paper and placed it in the hat before going to the bar with Ireland. They both sat there drinking and chatting like they usually do when they go to bars.

Ireland and France have been good friends for a long time. France helped Ireland out many times especially in the 1798 Uprising. Even though that didn't go so well, they've had lots of fun rebelling against England.

Hours passed and the party was going great. Ireland stayed at the bar most of the time and watched his friends get drunk. He enjoyed watching people drink until they lost their senses. Since it takes him a long time to get drunk, he tends to watch people and see what they act like when under the influence of drinking.

Suddenly, the music begins to fade into a low murmur as everyone looks to see who turned it down. America stands in front of the stereo system with a huge grin on his face. Before anyone can ask why he lowered the volume, he yells, "Okay everybody! Now it's time to play a game!" Everyone decided to go along with this, whispering or shrugging to one another. "The reason I asked you guys to bring a small item to the party is because I wanted us all to play the game seven minutes in heaven!"

This peaked a few nations' interests, while others seemed to be unsure, mad, or excited. Although, it had to be Romano to point out that most of the nations in the room were guys. This caught Hungary's attention as a strange glint appeared in her eyes. This also made France very interested in the game as he looked at all the guys in the room. Ireland was very uneasy about this game. He's heard of it before but never watched or participated in it.

The thing that worried Ireland most about this game was that he could end up in that closet with anyone. The unlimited possiblilties of who to be stuck in a closet with for seven minutes was starting to freak him out. He began wondering what would happen if he and one of his friends ended up in the closet. That would feel a bit awkward. What if he and France were forced to go in? That's more than awkward. Even though they're best friends, France still tries to put moves on Ireland. Being stuck in a closet with him wouldn't help anything. If that's not worse, what if he gets trapped in the closet with England? There's nothing more awkward than being in a small closet with your little brother for seven minutes.

Everyone gathers around in America's den to start the game. Ireland sighs in dismay as the hat is shown for all to see and America explains the rules.

"Something wrong?"

Ireland looks to his left to see England finally appear. He'd been missing during the party but Ireland decided not to look for him. He seemed a little annoyed after they talked to America.

"Oh, it's just this game..."

"I know. I had a feeling he'd do something like this."

"I should've known."

"I could say it'll be fine but I can't see the future, so I don't know for sure."

"Okay, Mr. Sarcasm. I get it."

America goes first, not being able to contain the excitement on his face. As he reaches into the hat and rumages around in it, Ireland could hear England mumbling something under his breath. _Probably saying "don't pick me" over and over again,_ Ireland assumed. He'll be doing that for the rest of the night.

America pulls out a folded up piece of paper and opens it. He stares at it, perplexed. He flips it over to where Ireland and England are seated and asks, "Arthur! Is this yours?" On the paper was a carefully drawn magic circle. Thankfully for America, it wasn't something evil.

England sighed, got up, and walked towards the closet, snatching the paper out of America's fingers. Before he could turn around and go in, Ireland raises his voice.

"Hey, Alfred! If you do anything funny to my little brother, I'll-"

"Don't worry! I wouldn't think of it!"

Ireland narrowed his eyes at the American before the closet door was closed.

"You have seven minutes starting now!" Germany yelled through the door while staring down at his watch. Even at a party Germany has to keep order.

Everyone waited anxiously to hear something, anything, go on in the closet. It was pretty quiet as far as Ireland could hear (he was sitting further away from the closet) but that didn't lower his suspicion of what America could be capable of. It's not that he didn't trust America. He didn't trust him and England alone together... for obvious reasons.

Once the seven minutes were up, Germany forced the door open. America and England were in the middle of what appeared to be an intense make out session. They pulled away right after the door was opened. Many people laughed, Hungary took a lot of photos before they pulled away, and Ireland stared at the two in shock. Now he really wants to know what went on in the closet.

England rushed over to Ireland with a flushed face. Whether it was from making out or the embarrassment of being witnessed, Ireland didn't care. He was about to ask what happened when America came over and sat on the other side of England. Instead of inquiring what went on, he decided to wait until he and England were on their way home. He turned his attention back to the game to see the hat being passed to Canada.

It was very interesting to see who went into the closet. Canada went in with France but they both came out with messed up hair. Though it sounded like nothing happened, Hungary swears she heard low moaning and grunts coming from it. Then again, she sits very close to the door and gets even closer after it's shut.

Next was Germany and Prussia. Nearly a minute after they were in there, Prussia starts yelling "Ohhhhh, West~!" at the top of his lungs. Soon after, everyone could hear loud banging coming from the closet. This went on for the rest of their turn. They both emerged with messy hair (for Prussia, messier than usual) and their clothes in disarray. Prussia immediately went over to France and Spain to brag about what happened. Germany went over to Italy with an annoyed expression over his flushed face. Italy kept asking what happened in the closet until Germany told him Prussia was joking around. So, nothing really happened in there.

Spain and Romano went in next but it took awhile. Romano didn't want to go into the closet with Spain. Italy tried to coax him with his universal solution: offering to make him pasta later. That didn't work so Germany tried to intervine and settle things. That only made Romano even more mad. As a last resort, Italy asked for France's help. He ended up scaring him into running into the closet by hitting on him. The last thing everyone saw before the door was closed was Romano holding onto Spain who was holding Romano bridal style.

There was more furious yelling than anything in the closet. Although, for a few moments it was pretty quiet before Romano started yelling again. When their time was up, Romano stormed out of the closet and sat next to Italy. Spain followed him and started acting more loving than he usual does towards him. Of course, Romano protested and tried to get away from Spain or make him move away from him.

The next pair to go into the closet was Sweden and Finland. It was just as quiet as ever in there with the occasional squeeks from Finland. When they came out, the two Nordics were blushing and holding hands. Whatever happened in there made the two come out as a couple.

Ireland was so distracted from staring at the new couple that he didn't notice Austria hand the hat to him. Once he noticed it, his heart sank. He was really hoping that he'd be overlooked or forgotten. Exhaling softly, he put his hand in and felt around. He pushed his hand around in it until something brushed his fingers. It felt like paper except this time it wasn't folded up. He pulled it out to see a picture of a plate of spaghetti. Ireland looked around the room until he spotted the auburn haired Italian.

"Ummmm, Italy?" Ireland asked. Both Italy and Romano looked up at him. "I mean, Feliciano?"

"Ve~?"

"Did you put a plate of spaghetti in here?" Ireland asked while holding up the picture.

"Sì~!" (T: Yes~!)


	3. Confession

So, it's Ireland and Italy's turn to go into the dark closet together. What could go on in that small space? And how will everyone react when their time's up and the door's opened?

* * *

Ireland walked into the closet with Italy, relieved that he didn't get a perverted nation. Even so, Italy is another good friend of his. Ireland's known him since he was a small nation, so he's watched him grow up into the country he is today. Although, once the door was closed and Germany began their countdown, the awkward feeling Ireland was expecting didn't come.

"Wow! It's really dark in here, isn't it?" Italy exclaimed from Ireland's right side. The red head chuckled at him quietly.

"Yes, it is. I guess there was no need for me to wear my glasses tonight," Ireland attempted to joke.

"Ve~ But you'd be blind otherwise, wouldn't you?"

"My eyesight isn't _that_ bad, Feliciano." Ireland laughed a bit to show that he wasn't offended by that last statement.

"I remember a time when you didn't need glasses and you could see perfectly fine! What happened to your eyes?"

Up until the end of England's days as a pirate, Ireland didn't wear glasses. His vision was very good so he didn't need them. Although, during the time England was a pirate, Ireland was always going with him on his voyages. He started having trouble seeing objects far away and would look closely at a book when reading. Eventually, it got to the point where he had to wear glasses. Although the doctor told him that there was a reason he had to resort to this...

"It was stress," Ireland answered with a sigh.

"Really? I see Ludwig wear glasses sometimes. I wonder if it's for the same reason?" Ireland inwardly laughed about that comment. Germany always seemed to be tense when around Italy. The poor boy probably doesn't understand why.

"Who knows?" They were both silent for a minute which is a little unusual for Italy. Ireland was about to talk about something to break the silence when Italy starts poking his side.

"Seamus! Seamus!"

"Tá?" (T: Yes?) The poking stopped but Italy had his arms out stretched. Of course, since it was dark and neither of them could see, Ireland was unaware of Italy's movements.

"Huuuuug~!" Ireland stared at him in the dark, taken aback by this random request.

"You want a hug?"

"Sì~! Hug! Hug!" Ireland chuckled again at Italy before wrapping his arms around his waist. Italy put his arms around Ireland's neck and pulled himself closer to him. This wasn't the first time Ireland's been faced with one of Italy's hugfests. Not that he minded or anything. He was okay with hugging as long as it didn't go any further (Ireland's note to self: don't hug any of the members of the Bad Friends Trio).

Italy started nuzzling Ireland's cheek, still holding on to his neck. This really caught Ireland off guard. Though Italy isn't afraid of displaying his affections toward someone, this seemed a little much. Ireland's never seen Italy do this to anyone. Sure, personal space never occured to Italy but this seemed different to Ireland somehow. After half a minute of Italy continuing this action, Ireland decided to ask him about it.

"Ugh, F-Feliciano?" Ireland stuttered.

"Ve~?"

"What's with this?" Italy stopped nuzzling his cheek to look at him... or at least face him.

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you being so..." Ireland couldn't find the right word to describe how Italy was acting, so he settled with, "... cuddley?"

Italy lit up and said, "Oh, you mean that? It's because I like you, Seamus!" Ireland raised an eyebrow at him.

"I like you too, Feliciano but I don't-"

"No! You don't understand, Seamus! I like you a lot!"

Before Ireland could say anything or ask what Italy meant by that, he felt a pair of warm lips connect with his. They felt tender and soft against Ireland's own sensitive ones. It was very gentle too and a little inexperienced. The kiss lasted for only a few seconds, though it felt much longer to Ireland. When Italy pulled away, he had a huge smile on his face with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. Ireland was left with an awestruck expression and a scarlet face from what happened.

"F-F-Feliciano...?"

"Ve~?"

"You mean you... like me in _that_ way?"

"Of course! I have for awhile now!"

"But, what about Ludwig?"

"Huh?" Italy tilted his head to the side even though Ireland couldn't see him. Ireland, like many others, had believed that Italy and Germany were (not so) secretly going out. Since Italy tended to be very close to Germany and always relied on him for different reasons, he assumed they were a couple. Plus, Germany always became uncomfortable or blushed when Italy did or said something strange. At some points, it seemed as if they were hiding something.

"You and Germany. Are you two..."

"What?"

"... in a relationship?" Italy looked at him for a bit before remarking, "Oh, no! You misunderstand, Seamus! Ludwig and I are best friends!" Italy then starts to babble on about how he and Germany are just friends, when they met, how they met, and so on. Ireland puts his hand over his mouth to silence him.

"Okay, I get it. You and Ludwig aren't dating." Italy tries to say something through Ireland's hand but it becomes muffled. Ireland removes his hand and asks, "What was that? Can you repeat it?"

"That's because I have stronger feelings for you than Ludwig." Ireland's heart skipped a beat and his face reddened. Italy could be blunt sometimes but Ireland's never been told that before.

"Do you really mean that, Feliciano?"

"Ve~! Of course!"

_If he really means what he says... I guess I can trust him,_ Ireland thought to himself. He cupped Italy's right cheek with his hand, leaned down, and kissed him back. Though Ireland himself was inexperienced, he put his emotions into the kiss. He was feeling very happy at the moment especially when he felt Italy kiss back.

Italy's arms found their way back to Ireland's neck while he was being held by his new lover. Italy started playing with the wild strands on the back of Ireland's head, messing with the unevenly cut hair. Ireland pulled Italy closer to him to where Italy was sitting on his lap, stradling him. They were so into the kiss that they didn't notice the door being forced open.

"Ohonhonhonhon! Becoming refamiliar with Feliciano, aren't we Seamus?"

"Don't move! I'm getting some good pictures!"

"Ms. Hungary! That's not lady-like!"

"Oh wow, Arthur! He's getting it on like you and I were-"

"You bloody git! You don't say things like that out loud! I thought I taught you better!"

"Awwww! Aren't they cute, Lovi?"

"He better get off my brother in five seconds or I'll-"

Ireland and Italy pulled away quickly and stood up. They'd completely forgotten that they were in the middle of a game. Italy cheerfully went back to his seat next to Romano who was glaring daggers at Ireland. The more embarrassed nation quickly went back to his brother and stared at the ground while America joked about what they all saw. England ended up getting him to talk about something else while Ireland continued to stare at the ground in an awkward silence.

"Hey," England said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "Don't be too embarrassed. Be thankful you didn't do anything further than that." Ireland recalled how his younger brother and America were in the middle of making out when the door opened. He also remembered how Canada and France came out looking disheveled, though he'd rather not think about what went on in there. So, maybe England was right about that.


	4. Remember What I Told You?

Well, you get some brotherly bonding between Ireland and England in this chapter. I'm sorry that Italy doesn't show up that much right now but he will in the next chapter onwards! I'm also sorry that this chapter is short. I hope you guys enjoy, though!

* * *

The party ended with several nations leaving drunk, Hungary being carried by Austria because she passed out from excessive nose bleeding, France (for once) not going home with a bunch of women but rather Canada instead, and Italy clinging onto Germany while Romano glared at them and Spain invaded his personal space. Ireland and England left and went straight home, talking about the party. It wasn't until they arrived at Ireland's house that the nation remembered something he'd been wanting to ask his neighbor.

"Hey, England? What happened in that closet?" The Brit paused for a moment with a thoughtful look on his face. He appeared to be trying to find a way to say his next sentence. Finally, he told Ireland, "It'd be better if I explained what happened before we entered the closet." Ireland raised an eyebrow at him.

"When America called us, I had an assumption that he'd do something like that closet game. So, I drew the Luring Circle to make sure he'd pick me if it was his turn."

"And if you had a turn before him? How would that work?"

"That's why I was gone during most of the party. To think things through in case that were to happen."

"But why go through so much trouble for a game?" Ireland looked down at his little brother to see a blush start to creep across his face.

"I... have feelings... for America..." Ireland stared at England with wide eyes, clearly in shock from hearing this.

"Seriously? How long have you felt like that?" Ireland asked curiously.

"I'm not sure exactly," England answered slowly, "I guess it's always been there and I've just been able to realize it." Thinking about it, Ireland has noticed how loving England was towards America when he was growing up. America seemed to enjoy England's affection as well. Maybe he'd felt the same way since then?

"So, are you two going out?" Ireland asked, a little too straight forward. England blushed a little deeper.

"I think so. We never confirmed it or anything if that's what you're asking."

"Well, you guys were sitting pretty close at the party. He never really left your side either. You seemed to be enjoying each other's company."

"And? Your point?"

"You're probably going to be seeing a lot more of each other for now on." England was silent for a moment before looking over at Northern Ireland's house. The lights were off and the whole place was quiet. Then again, it was 2:00 in the morning.

"Hey, Ireland?" England asked, sounding a little unsure.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Do you... accept our relationship?"

"Just as long as he doesn't do anything to hurt you, I'm fine with it. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I just have a feeling that they're going to say something about it." Ireland followed England's gaze to his northern part's land.

_Ah, so he's worried about what our brothers will think,_ Ireland concluded. He smiled kindly and patted England on the head, who looked up at him a little surprised.

"Remember what I told you when we were little? To not listen to them? You're a man now, England. Their opinions shouldn't matter anymore." England smiled up at him, feeling a little more confident.

"You're right," he whispered before looking down at his watch. "It's very late. I'm going home."

"All right. Good night."

"Good night." England turned and walked off to Ireland's border.

"Don't fall into St. George's Channel again!" Ireland called.

"I'm not jumping this time!"

You've heard of island hopping, right? In case you haven't, it was a strategy the Allies came up with during WWII. They would "hop" from one island to the other to secure islands controled by Japan. This helped them gain control of the Pacific and shorten the distance to Japan. Well, Ireland uses this literally. He jumps from his border to Wales to get to England's house (or if he wants to be scolded, jumps from Northern Ireland's border to Scotland's, and takes a long walk to England's house). If he wants to go further than that, he jumps from England's border to France's and walks to where he wants to go. England, though, seems to always fall into the body of water between his house and Ireland's.

Ireland laughed to himself and walked into his house. Tonight was a very interesting night.


	5. Don't Hurt Him

This chapter will be in Italy and Romano's point of view. It's the morning after America's party and Italy's feeling a little down. What's making him upset and how will Romano react?

By the way, if the last part makes Romano seem too OOC, please forgive me. I wasn't trying to do that.

Well, read and enjoy! There are more Italy appearances, as promised!

* * *

At Italy's house, he was just waking up from his crazy night at America's party. He'd had a lot of fun hanging around Germany, Prussia, Romano, and Spain all night. It was nice to be together and enjoy a night without worrying about any problems at their homes. He also loved how America's game brought people together. It was just supposed to be a fun little party game but it made people come out as couples (except Germany and Prussia).

Italy was very happy to see his older brother and Spain go into the closet. He's always thought they'd make a great couple, though Romano would deny it. He was stubborn like that. Whatever happened when they were in the closet, Italy was sure it would bring the two closer together. Or, at least he hoped it would.

Suddenly, Italy remembers his time in the closet with Ireland. He confessed his feelings for the Irishman and... Italy touched his lips with a blush. Ireland kissed him back.

_Almost like..._

_"Oi, Italy..."_

_... that boy..._

_"Will you join me and become the Holy Roman Empire?"_

_Holy Roman Empire..._ Tears began to well up in his eyes and he wiped them away.

"No. I have to accept that he's..." he trailed off as more tears began to fill his eyes. "Just like everyone said, I have to move on. But..." The tears spilled out onto his cheeks. "... why?" He put his hands over his eyes as more tears came. "Why did you have to go to war? Why didn't you stay with me and Mr. Austria and Ms. Hungary?" Italy started to sob now, thinking back to that day when he refused to go with Holy Rome. To this day, he wished there was something he could've done to make him stay.

Romano was awakened by Italy's sobbing and turned over to look at him. This seemed different from how he usually cries. Instead of being very loud, he was trying to keep himself quiet. Also, his tears weren't coming out like a water hose like when he was in trouble. Without thinking, Romano asks, "What are you crying about now?"

Italy looked up from his hands to see Romano staring at him. Though he looked annoyed, his eyes held slight concern.

"O-Oh! It's nothing, fratello!" (T: fratello - brother) He knew Romano wouldn't be satisfied by that answer so he quickly lied, "I just woke up from a bad dream!"

Romano narrowed his eyes at him, not believing the huge grin Italy replaced on his tear soaked face.

"What was it about?" he asked, suspicion clear in his voice. Italy thought for a bit before thinking of something he knew would anger Romano. Maybe he'd be too mad and forget about what he saw for a moment.

"W-Well, Germany-"

"What?! You're dreaming about that potato-bastard again?! I told you to stop doing that!"

"But fratello-"

"No buts! Besides, aren't you with that other potato-bastard?" Italy stared at Romano in confusion.

"Who are you talking about?"

"The one you were kissing last night!"

"Oh! Ireland! But why are you calling him that? He's nice!"

"Nice? I saw what he was doing to you!"

"Fratello, it was only a kiss."

"Not from what I saw!"

"Romano, why are you making a big deal out of this? I wasn't upset when I saw you in Spain's arms." Romano paused abruptly and fumbled in his mind to find a good response.

"That - That wasn't my choice! That stupid French-bastard freaked me out!" Italy giggled a little before saying, "It was so cute! You and Big Brother Spain wrapped in each other's arms-"

"Shut up, Veneziano! The point is I don't want that guy around you anymore!"

"But aren't you two friends as well?"

"That changed after what I saw in the closet!"

"Fratello, you don't have to be so mean!"

"To hell with it! You heard what I said!" Romano jumped out of bed and grabbed some clothes to change into. Once he left the room, Italy just sat there and sighed.

"Ve... That was close." He wiped at the dried up tears on his face. It's been awhile since he's cried like that. He didn't like to cry like this in front of people, especially his older brother.

Italy got dressed and went downstairs to eat breakfast. It wasn't making him feel much better but he enjoyed the food. He was lost in thought through most of the meal, thinking of what he should do to distract himself from this. That's when the phone rang, startling Italy and annoying Romano.

"Who the hell decides to call at this hour?" Romano fumed, "And while we're in the middle of eating!" He picked up the phone, answered it, and asked a very rude "What?" into the receiver.

_"Buenos días Lovi~!"_ (T: Good morning, Lovi~!) came Spain's voice.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Is that Spain?" Italy called, "Ciao, Spain~!"

_"Hola, Italy!"_

"Answer the question, jackass!"

_"I just wanted to talk to you, Lovi~!"_

"You can do that anytime, asshole! We're in the middle of eating!"

_"Oh really? Can I come over?"_

"No!"

_"Awwww, are you embarrassed, Lovi?"_

"What the hell should I be embarrassed about?"

_"Because your brother's in the room listening to us~!"_ Romano just remembered that Italy was still sitting at the table. The younger of the two sat there looking at him while eating his food. "Veneziano! Stop staring at me!"

"But your conversation with Big Brother Spain is so-"

"Then get the fuck out!"

"What? Why? What did I do?"

"I don't need a reason! Just get out of my kitchen!" It was actually _their_ kitchen but Italy decided not to argue. He stood up and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. That's when an idea struck him.

"Hey, fratello! I'm going to visit Germany!"

"What? No! You are not going near that potato-bastard!"

"Arrivederci!" (T: See you later!) Before Romano could yell anything else, Italy walked out the front door and left for Germany's house. Romano sighed (more like exhaled furiously) in agitation.

"God, he never listens to me!" Romano said, forgetting that the phone was still in his hand and he was speaking into it.

"I'm sure he does~."

"He doesn't! I wouldn't be surprised if he said that but really went to that drunk bastard's house!"

"... Who are we talking about here?" Romano let out another annoyed groan.

"Red hair, always wears green, has to wear glasses, has bushier eyebrows than that English bastard. Sound fucking familiar?"

"Ireland? Why would Italy do that?"

"I don't know! Aren't they a couple or something?"

"Why does that bother you?"

"Because he's going to hurt Veneziano! I just know it!"

"Why would you say that? Ireland wouldn't do that." Romano sighed a little less irritably.

"Spain, you don't know him like I do. He's been hurt before... by someone very close to him."

"What do you mean? When did this happen?"

"Remember the kid that showed up after Grandpa passed?"

"Ugh... Yeah! I remember him now! Holy Roman Empire, right?"

"Yeah. Veneziano told me stories about when he was friends with him. He seemed to really like him..."

"Oh, they were so cute~! I think Holy Roman Empire had a little crush on Italy."

"Yeah, well, apparently he left to go into war and never came back."

"Ah... yes. I've heard many stories about what became of him."

"I hate him."

"What?"

"Holy Roman Empire. I hate him so much."

"But, Lovi, you've never met him-"

"He hurt my little brother! I don't need to meet him to hate his guts!" There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Spain was surprised to hear Romano say such a thing. Yes, he was protective of his younger sibling in a not-so-affectionate way, but this was different. Romano's confession left Spain speechless.

"Romano..."

"What?!"

"Do you really think Ireland would hurt Italy like that?"

"I'm not giving him any chances. The minute he slips up, I'll make sure Veneziano never sees him again."

"How can you be sure of that? It's not like you'll actually-"

"Oh, I'll do it if I have to. There will be only one Ireland when I'm done with him."

Spain shuddered on the other end, hoping Romano was only exaggerating. He decided to change the subject before Romano started detailing how he would get rid of Ireland.

"So, on another note, can I come over now? Since it'll just be the two of us..."

"Pervert." Romano hung the phone up without hearing Spain's reply. He was tired of talking to the Spaniard. Besides, the food was getting cold. He sat in his seat and continued eating what was left of both his and Italy's plate.

_I'm surrounded by hopeless bastards._


	6. At Germany's House

Looks like Ireland needs to watch out for himself. And he thought he had to keep an eye on America... That's brotherly love for you. Let's see how the rest of Italy's morning turns out!

This switches from Italy's point of view to Ireland's and back to Italy's. Not that this would confuse anyone since it's pretty obvious but oh well.

Also, I used Google translate so if any translations are wrong, I'm sorry.

* * *

Italy walked through Austria's yard as a short cut to get to Germany's house. He could've gone through Switzerland's like he did in both Wars but he was too upset to be yelled at. Even though Switzerland can't shoot him anymore, he yells at anyone who trudges through his lawn. Besides, Austria didn't mind half the time. As long as you didn't tear up the garden, make everything look like a mess, or loiter you were fine.

"Jó reggelt, Italy." (T: Good morning) Italy turned to see Hungary exiting Austria's house.

"Ve~ Buongiorno, ma'am!" (T: Good morning) Italy walked over to Hungary, noticing that she was wearing the same clothes as the night before. He vaguely remembers what happened with the other nations as they were leaving the party. "Ms. Hungary, what are you doing at Mr. Austria's house? And why are you wearing the same clothes from last night?"

Hungary giggled and walked closer to Italy. "Mr. Austria said I passed out so he brought me to his house."

"Ve~! Mr. Austria is such a nice person!"

"He is. Oh! I still have my camera! Do you want to see the photos I took last night?"

"Sì! Did you get some good ones?"

"Yes! I even have some of you and Mr. Ireland!" Hungary searched through her camera to find the two while Italy peeked over her shoulder. When they saw one of an auburn haired man with a random curl on his head sitting on a green clothed red-head, they knew they found the photos. Hungary clicked through them as Italy saw himself and Ireland slowly pull away from each other.

"Oh, look at this one!" Hungary commented on one that showed a good view of their faces, "You look so happy in this! And look at Ireland! His face is so red!"

"He looks embarrassed!"

"I think he was! Speaking of which..." Hungary shut her camera off and put it away, "Where are you going so early this morning?" She made a very suggestive smile as she asked, Italy not taking the hint.

"Oh, I was headed to Germany's house."

"Oh? You're not going to Mr. Ireland's?"

"No, he's probably busy or still asleep. I think I'll go to his house later."

"That's good. Be careful when going to his house. Or have Germany walk with you."

"Ve~ Ireland can jump very far..."

"Well, I have to go home. I hope you enjoy yourself, Italy."

"I will! Addio!" (T: Goodbye!)

"Búcsú!" (T: Goodbye!) As Hungary left, Italy was feeling a little better. She always found a way to make him happy.

Italy crossed over to Germany's lawn and noticed that Germany and Prussia were outside. Not only that but it seemed that they were giving the dogs their early morning walk. Seeing the dogs, Italy's good mood increased.

"Germanyyyyyy~!" Italy ran over to them and crouched down to pet the dogs. Germany looked down at the Italian in slight annoyance. Prussia looked over at the mild disturbance and smirked.

"Guten morgen, Feli!" (T: Good morning) Prussia greeted Italy.

"Buongiorno, Gilbert! Are you helping Ludwig walk his puppies?"

"They're not puppies Italy!" Germany exclaimed, "They're grown up!"

"But they're cute~!"

"Genau wie, Westen," (T: Just like, West) Prussia cut in. Both Germany and Italy looked up at Prussia as he smirked. Germany knew he was joking but that didn't keep the blood from rushing to his face. Italy had no idea what Prussia said but noticed that it made Germany embarrassed... or angry... he couldn't tell.

"Ruhig sein! Das ist völliger unsinn!" (T: Be quiet! That's complete nonsense!) Germany barked.

"Ja, ihre niedlichkeit gingen weg wie du aufgewachsen. Kesesesesese!" (T: Yeah, your cuteness went away as you grew up.)

* * *

"How's Canada? You two seemed... close as the party was ending."

"I could say the same thing about you and Italy." France chuckled after that, causing Ireland to blush at the memory of being seen.

Ireland had visited France to talk about the party. Not only did he clear up France's misunderstanding of what he saw, he discussed what Italy had told him. He wasn't here to seek romantic advice from France (he's already tried that many years ago). Ireland needed someone to talk to about it besides his brothers.

"Ah, but Canada is doing fine. He's sleeping upstairs. I think I tired him out last-"

"France, I told you I don't want to hear about your sex life," Ireland said quickly. France chuckled again.

"What makes you think we had sex?" Ireland shot him a look that basically said, _Seriously? You're really asking me this?_ Ireland then noticed something in the corner of his eye. He looked over to see Germany, Prussia, Italy, and Germany's dogs. Germany and Prussia seemed to be arguing about something, though Ireland couldn't tell what it was. They were about several yards away from Ireland and France.

"I thought Italy wasn't a morning person," Ireland stated after realizing it was still a little early.

"He has his moments where he'll wake up early." They were both quiet for awhile, silently watching Germany get flustered from something Prussia said.

"Why don't you go talk to him?" France asked.

"What?"

"Why don't you go talk to Italy? He looks like he needs someone besides two arguing Germans and three dogs to keep him company." Ireland couldn't help but agree. He wasn't sure how Italy could stand sitting there, listening to an arguement while playing with animals. Perhaps this is what he was use to doing when being allies with Germany?

Ireland said goodbye to France before going into Germany's country to greet them. Germany and Prussia were still arguing about something but they were both speaking in German. Ireland knew a little German but not enough to understand what they were saying. They also seemed to be oblivious of Ireland's presence. Seeing this, Ireland turned to Italy, whose back was turned and still playing with one of the dogs.

* * *

"Dia duit, Italy," (T: Hello) Ireland said cheerfully. Italy looked up at Ireland, tilting his head backwards to see him. His smile widened and he turned his body around fully to face him.

"Ciao, Ireland! How's your morning been?"

"Pretty good. And yours?"

"Very good!" Italy lied. He didn't want Ireland to worry or feel concerned for him. Though they were friends for a long time, Italy never told Ireland about Holy Roman Empire or the pain he experienced when he found out he was never coming back to him. It took awhile for Italy to even tell Germany about that. Of course, he was understanding and accepted that Italy had suffered some time in his life. Italy was glad Germany understood.

"That's great!" Ireland bought the lie much to Italy's comfort. Next to them, Germany and Prussia were still going on about something and it seemed to be getting worse. It was almost getting hard to be near them since pedestrians would walk by and stare at them strangely.

"Hey, Italy. You want to take a walk somewhere?"

"Ve~! Sure!" Ireland took Italy's hand and pulled him to his feet. Italy didn't want to let go of his hand. It was warm, a little coarse with a few faded scars, and firm in his own hand. It made him feel secure for some reason. Almost like, no matter what, Ireland won't let go unless he had to. It was a very nice feeling, Italy realized.

"So, where do you want to go?" Ireland asked as they walked away from the screaming Germans.

"I think there's a park a few blocks away that's nice!" Italy answered.

"The park it is," Ireland chuckled. As they walked in the direction of the park, they both hadn't realized yet that they still haven't pulled their hands away.


	7. Ireland Comes to Visit

This chapter is a flashback Italy has while he's walking with Ireland. As Chibitalia, Italy receives a visit from a much younger Ireland. Although, on this particular visit, someone is watching them. Let's just say they're not exactly fond of Ireland being near Italy.

Read and enjoy everyone!

* * *

_I remember when Ireland came to visit me while I was staying at Holy Rome's house. Though Mr. Austria and Ms. Hungary had control over me, we stayed in Holy Rome's house. Ireland would visit me from time to time, each visitation making me feel so happy. I loved having visitors and Ireland was so nice whenever he came over. Although, I never understood why Holy Rome disliked having him around..._

It was a normal sunny day as always at Holy Roman Empire's house. Italy was cleaning the hallways, observing Austria's paintings. His desire to draw got him in trouble when he painted over one of Austria's portaits. Still, the little Italian nation needed something to express himself. He needed something to turn to when he had inspiration or feelings to release. Unfortunately, he didn't have much time in the day to draw and when he did, Holy Roman Empire would distract him. Not that he minded him being there. Holy Rome was a nice boy and all, but sometimes Italy just needed to be alone to paint.

"Italy." The boy turned around to see Austria behind him. He had a soft expression, making Italy think that maybe he has good news.

_Maybe we're having pasta tonight!_ The thought of eating good pasta again almost made his little stomach growl.

"Yes, sir?"

"There's someone here who wants to see you." Italy's face lit up. Though he'd love some pasta right now, having a visitor was a big deal to him. Not many people came to see Italy so he was very happy to receive a visitor.

"Really? Where are they?"

"The front door. Talk to him outside, though. I don't want him to track dirt in the house."

"Yes, sir!" Italy was so excited he ran to the front room to see who came to visit him. Austria chuckled at the child's enthusiasm. He knew Italy got bored being around older countries and only having Holy Rome as his friend. It was good to have this certain visitor around to keep him company.

Italy ran through the different hallways until he found the front room. The door was slightly ajar, letting the warmth and light from outside to flow in. Italy opened the door wider to reveal a much younger Ireland.

He was a teenager now, around France's age at this point. He didn't have his glasses yet so his vision was very good. This was way before he became part of the United Kingdom meaning there are no family struggles for him at the moment.

"Mr. Ireland! You came to see me again?" Italy asked in excitement. The teen smiled down at him kindly before offering his hand to the boy.

"Yes, I have," Ireland replied, "You know, Italy, you don't have to address me so formally." Italy took Ireland's hand to complete the greeting.

"But, Mr. Ireland, you already said I couldn't call you 'Big Brother.' And I can't be impolite towards older nations, so I have to address them with respect." Ireland looked down at the small boy in surprise. He didn't think Italy cared so much about how he addressed a nation.

_Ancient Rome..._ Ireland smiled at him again and pat his head. _You've taught him so well..._

"Italy, you can call me 'Ireland' and leave it at that."

"Are you sure that's okay?"

"Tá. I don't call France, 'Big Brother' and he doesn't seem to mind." Although, he does pester him about it from time to time. Ireland refuses to call France his older brother because he already has two of them, Scotland and Wales. He doesn't see France as his brother but a really good friend. Still, he won't stop asking him to do so.

"Really? Okay, Mr., I mean, Ireland!" The red-head smiled down at Italy's attempt to get use to being less formal around him.

"You'll get use to it one day," he encouraged him. Italy smiled brightly up at him. He ended up looking down at Ireland's feet to see mud covering most of his boots and parts of his pants. It hadn't rained for awhile so he didn't attract it while traveling.

"Mis- Ireland? Why are you muddy?" Ireland looked down at his legs to see the mess and sighed.

"This is what happens when you jump from my house to Scotland's right after it rained. What makes it worse is that it rained at England's house too."

"Oh. Ireland? How do you deal with all that rain? Don't you have to stay inside a lot?"

"Well, Italy, if you ever get into farming you'll realize that you have no choice but to work in the rain. Besides, rain is a great thing for crops." Ireland and his brother North* started getting into farming when they were younger and now it's a way of life for them.

"Oh, it seems like a lot of hard work, though," Italy commented.

"It is but so many good things come out of it."

"Hey, Ireland! Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Sure!" Ireland took Italy's hand as they walked around outside of Holy Rome's house. Italy's hand was so small and soft, not already ruined from hard work or being involved in a war. Ireland's hand was smooth but dirty from getting mud on it. Italy didn't seem to mind, though.

They walked around for awhile until Italy led Ireland to a tree. They sat down and conversed about life at their homes. Italy was doing swell but he was really bored. Ireland had to keep England and France from killing each other, tend to his crops with North, and deal with the madness of living with four brothers. He joked that Italy was lucky to only have one brother even if he did consider both France and Spain his older siblings.

"It's such a hassle having to deal with them at times," Ireland admits, "Especially when England and Scotland start arguing."

"But you still love them, right?"

"Of course! There's nothing they can do to make me hate them."

"That's great, Ireland! I kind of wish I could see my brother, Romano. I wonder what we'll think of each other when we meet."

"That will all come in due- Oh my god!" Italy jumped at Ireland's sudden movement. He was staring at something in front of him with his eyes a little wide.

"What is it?" Ireland held the palm of his hand out in front of him and stared at it.

"One of England's fairies followed me." Italy stared at Ireland's hand in confusion. He couldn't see anything but dried up dirt.

"What are you doing here?" Ireland asked it, "Is there something wrong?"

"France came over while you were gone and now they're fighting!" the fairy said urgently.

"Again?"

"Yes, again... You need to come home quick before it gets worse!" Ireland sighed softly before standing up.

"Okay, I'll be there in a second." Ireland turned to Italy and gave him a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Italy but I have to go back home. England and France are fighting again."

"How do you know that?" That's when Ireland suddenly remembered... he's the only one that can see the creature. He just had a conversation with something most people and nations can't see.

_Damn, I should've left before I spoke to the fairy._

"Ugh... It's kind of complicated. I'll tell you when you get a little older, okay?"

"Okay...?" Ireland turned to leave but stopped himself. He looked back at Italy and said, "The next time I come over I'll try to bring you a sketching book."

"R-Really? Thank you, Mr. Ireland!"

"Beannacht!" (T: Goodbye!) And with that, Ireland ran off with the fairy fluttering behind him. Depending on what he'll find when he returns home, Ireland will either defend one of them, try to be the voice of reason between them (which never works), or stand by to let them sort their disagreements out.

As Ireland hurried toward the border, Italy noticed some movement in one of the windows. Little did he know, Holy Roman Empire was watching them the entire time.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Holy Roman Empire approached Italy as he was drawing some water for Austria.

"U-Ummm, Italy?" Holy Rome asked uneasily. Italy looked up from his job to look at his friend. The boy before him looked a little nervous and was looking off to the side.

"Ciao, Holy Rome! Do you need something?"

"Umm, who's that guy that comes over to see you?"

"Oh! That's Mr. Ireland!"

"How do you know him? His house is pretty far away."

"He and Big Brother France are very close. When I started being friends with him, I also became friends with Mr. Ireland!"

"Oh... Is that why he only comes over to see you?"

"Sì! He's a very nice guy. I should introduce you to him-"

"No, that's okay. I don't think we'd have a lot to talk about."

"Oh, are you sure?"

"Ja. I'll see you at dinner, Italy." Holy Roman Empire was having horrible thoughts about Ireland. He wasn't pleased that Ireland was close friends with France. Holy Rome and France have been fighting over Italy ever since the Roman Empire fell. Besides, there was something about France he didn't like. He seemed to look at people, especially Italy, in such a weird way.

Holy Rome also found Ireland to be a little strange. He noticed earlier how the teenager was looking at his hand, talking to it while Italy stared at him in confusion. What was he doing anyways? After he was done he seemed a bit surprised that Italy noticed him doing that. And why did he leave so suddenly?

Truthfully, Holy Rome was a little jealous that Italy was friends with Ireland. He sees Italy every day and their relationship is pretty good, though he's slowly working up the courage to tell Italy his true feelings. But, Ireland only comes around every once in awhile, at least once or twice a month. And yet, when he comes over, he and Italy are inseparable!

_Maybe I shouldn't get so worked up. I mean, Italy doesn't seem like she wants to be any more than friends with him. And, I have to admit, Ireland hasn't done anything to her. He keeps out of her personal space and doesn't try to take advantage of her. Maybe I'm just overreacting..._

*Obviously, this takes place before Ireland and his brother became part of the United Kingdom, then separated due to Ireland gaining his independence. Since they both represented Ireland at this point, the only way their brothers could distinguish them was by nicknaming them North and South. North later becomes Northern Ireland while South becomes the Republic of Ireland. Italy calls him _Ireland_ instead of _South_ because he knows him a lot better than North. This is a little similar to how everyone calls Italy by his country name instead of _Veneziano_ like his brother.


	8. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Now back to their walk! Italy and Ireland get really close again and it turns into a very cute moment! But, there's someone who doesn't find them being together so cute. Any guess as to who that might be?

I hope you guys enjoy this little chapter! If the Italian translations are wrong, I'm sorry.

* * *

About five minutes later, Ireland and Italy made it to the park. It gave off a very peaceful and tranquil feeling. A small family were sitting under a tree and having a picnic. A woman was walking her German Shephard. A group of teenagers walked by, laughing and joking with one another. This put the two nations in a good mood as they walked, hand still in hand.

"Ve~! This is a great place to play football! Don't you think so, Seamus?" Italy exclaimed. Ireland chuckled lightly at Italy's carefree attitude.

"Yes, it does look like it'd be a good enough place to play."

"Do you like to play football?"

"Whenever I get the time, yes."

"You always seem so busy, Seamus."

"Well, it gives me something to do. If I wasn't as busy, I'd be bored."

"You need more time to have fun!"

"Even if I did have more time on my hands, I'd probably be cooped up inside reading, or going to France's house more often." Italy looked up at Ireland with a huge smile on his face.

"Oh, I know! Why don't you come to my house and we can have lunch together!" Ireland was a little surprised by Italy's invitation. Despite all the times he went to Italy's house, he was never offered to stay for lunch or dinner. Still, the invitation made Ireland smile.

"That would be nice, Feliciano. This'll be a great opportunity for me to try Italian food."

"You mean you've never had pasta?" Italy sounded shocked to hear this.

"No..." The Italian looked awestruck to hear that Ireland had not yet tasted the glorious pasta of his country. This was amazing because almost everyone has eaten his food at some point.

"Ve! Once you try it, you'll love it!"

"Really? It's that good?"

"Ve~! Of course it is! Come to my house tomorrow and we'll have some!"

"Okay, it's a date then."

"A date?" Ireland widened his eyes after realizing what he said.

"Oh, ummm, it's an expression! It's a way of saying 'I'll be there.'"

"Oh..." Italy trailed off a bit before asking, "Can it still be a date?" Ireland's cheeks went red at the suggestion. Why did Italy have to be so blunt about everything? Although, it wasn't a bad thought. Their time in the closet wasn't what you'd call a date. Plus, it would help them get closer as a couple.

_Wait... Are we a couple?_ Ireland suddenly thought, _I never considered asking him that._

"I guess it can be. But, I want to ask you something, and I need you to be honest."

"Ve~?"

"Do you think of us as a couple, Feliciano?" Italy tilted his head to the side, his curl bobbing slightly as he did so.

"I thought we were a couple. Are you saying you don't want to be?"

"No, no, no, no, no! That's not what I was trying to say! I just wanted to be sure so that there aren't any misunderstandings." That's when a smile appeared on Italy's face.

"So, you want to be in a relationship with me?" Ireland didn't know what to say other than, "Y-Yes..." Italy's response was to glomp him to the ground in a massive hug. The family having the picnic looked over at them in alarm, wondering what had happened.

"Veeeee~! Seamus, sei il migliore!" (T: Seamus, you're the best!) And with that, Italy planted a quick peck on Ireland's lips. This made the Irishman blush a deeper shade of red.

_Oh boy, he's more than just blunt. He doesn't care what anyone thinks._

Ireland returned the kiss but held it a little longer than Italy's peck. It was really warm. Not their lips touching but the feeling going through them. It was so nice and it came from just one short kiss. As they pulled away Italy looked into Ireland's eyes with a light blush, Ireland with a more obvious one. Their hearts began to pound in their chests, a silent rhythm playing the song of early love.

* * *

Ireland knocked on the door to Italy's house, holding a bottle of red wine France gave him. After their little kiss in the park, the two went back to see if Germany and Prussia were done arguing. Prussia ran off somewhere, leaving Germany to finish walking his dogs. Ireland decided to head back home while Italy stayed at Germany's house.

On his way, France stopped Ireland to ask him how his talk with Italy went. He told him about their walk through the park, Italy inviting him over for lunch, and their kiss. Of course, France had to be suggestive about Ireland going to Italy's house.

Before Ireland could leave to go home, France gave him a bottle of wine. He informed Ireland that, when being invited to an Italian's house, it's best to bring a gift. Bringing fine wine is not only a great gift but they can both enjoy it. Yes, France made this very suggestive too.

The door opened up to reveal Italy in an apron. He was in the middle of cooking when Ireland arrived. He smiled at Ireland who smiled back kindly in return.

"Ve~! Benvenuto, Ireland!" (T: Welcome, Ireland!) Italy opened the door wider for his guest to enter. Ireland walked in and offered the wine to him.

"Good afternoon, Italy! I brought some wine for lunch." Italy took the bottle and examined it carefully. When a smile lit up his face, Ireland knew he was pleased.

"Ireland! This came from Big Brother France, didn't it?"

"Uh-huh! He was the one who suggested I bring it."

"Ve~! Big Brother approves of our relationship!"

"I do _not_!" came an angry voice from the living room. Ireland looked behind Italy to see Romano sitting on the couch, staring at him in hatred. He could tell the Italian was staring at him specifically because they made eye contact, and Romano refused to look away. Ireland wasn't aware that Italy's twin brother was staying for lunch.

"Lovi~! Are you being overly concerned again~?" Spain appeared from behind a wall, a cheeky grin on his face. Now Ireland was confused.

"Ugh, Italy? Are we not going to be the only ones having lunch at your house?"

"Well, when I told Romano about it he said he didn't want me to be alone with you. So, I suggested he join us! But, since I thought he'd feel left out, I invited Big Brother Spain too!"

"Oh... okay. That's fine with me."

"Ve~! I have to finish boiling the pasta and make the sauce, so sit here with fratello and Spain while I do that!"

"All right, Italy!" Italy kissed Ireland on the lips before going back to the kitchen. The red-head blushed in embarassment from his boyfriend displaying his affection in front of his other guests. It didn't help that Spain was remarking on how adorable the two were while Ireland was still stunned. It also didn't help that Romano was trying to kill him with his gaze.

Ireland was about to sit down next to Spain so that he wouldn't have to be as close to Romano. What stopped him was the murderous looking nation standing up and walking towards him. He stopped right in front of Ireland, never breaking eye contact, and jabbed his finger at his chest.

"Look here you whiskey drinking bastard," Romano growled, "If you think you can just waltz in here and assume that Veneziano will be all yours, you're fucking wrong!" He jabbed Ireland's chest again, this time receiving a very small noise of discomfort. "If you know what's good for you, you'll leave and never speak to Veneziano ever again!"

"Romano," Spain tried to cut in, "You're being a bit harsh to him, don't you think?"

"Shut up and keep out of this!" Romano yelled at Spain. He turned back to look at Ireland, who had a more serious look on his face. "I'm glad I convinced Veneziano to not eat alone with you. To think you went as far as to bring wine!"

"Romano, your culture is like everyone else's," Ireland stated calmly, "When you visit someone's home, it's polite to bring a gift to the host or person who invited you. Bringing wine is one of the best ways to make a good impression on the host and their family."

"A good impression? The one country that can never get drunk bringing a fucking bottle of _wine_? Do you think I'm stupid? I know what you were going to do!" Romano, like most nations, believes that Ireland has the inability to get drunk. He can drink alcohol for hours without becoming the slightest bit tipsy. However, this is a misunderstanding. Ireland can get drunk; it just takes him a very long time.

Ireland narrowed his eyes at the younger nation. "Are you accusing me of trying to get him drunk so that I can take advantage of him?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Now, how about you take your whiskey loving ass home and we won't have any problems?"

"Romano," Spain interrupted again, "You're going too far now."

"I told you to be quiet!" Ireland and Romano glared fiercely at one another. It was so intense Spain could swear he saw a spark of lightning flash between their eyes. He was right, though. Romano was going too far with this 'over-protective older brother' role. Accusing Ireland of doing something so low... that was a major insult to him.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Romano," Ireland said quite calmly despite looking like he'll strangle the Italian.

"And why the fuck not?"

"Because, whether you like it or not, I'm going to be involved in Italy's life. You're going to be seeing a lot of me from here on out. Besides..." Ireland's scowl melted away into a warm smile, "I have yet to taste Italian food. I will not leave until I've tried it."


	9. Afternoon Madness

It's time for lunch and Ireland's first time eating Italian food! How will this go? Let's hope it goes well and Romano doesn't kill him before the food's even served! You will also learn what Ireland will do when he believes his family is in danger.

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! It's the longest one so far! And if I have any translations wrong, I'm very sorry.

* * *

"Ireland, you'll sit here next to me," Italy directed Ireland to the chair next to his, "And Spain and fratello will sit across from us!" The two other nations sat at the table while Italy went into the kitchen to add the finishing touches to their meal. Romano sat across from Ireland, continuing to glare at him.

_This is getting tiresome,_ Ireland thought, _I don't get why he hates me right now._ He decided that he had to get straight to the point if he wanted answers.

"Romano, what is it that you have against me? I thought we were friends."

"That changed after I saw you and my brother in the closet," Romano growled.

"You freak out over one kiss?"

"You looked like you were doing more than just kissing!" This suddenly reminded Ireland of his conversation with France. He said the same thing except in a very suggestive tone. Ireland inwardly groaned. He had to explain the situation again.

"Yes, I understand that it looked like something else was going on. But, I assure you, we were only kissing."

"Then why was Veneziano on your lap? Tell me that!" Ireland knew that what he was about to say was going to anger Romano. Still, he needed to say it to clear up the misunderstanding.

"I wanted to pull him closer to me and it ended up that way." Before Ireland could even blink, Romano's hand came in contact with his right cheek. His face stung from the harsh slap and his glasses shifted in a weird angle on his nose. He cupped his cheek and stared at Romano.

"Bullshit! You perverted fucking bastard!" That's when Italy rushed in, a worried look on his face.

"What happened? It sounded like someone was slapped across the face." Ireland rested his elbow on the table, still holding onto his cheek, and smiled innocently.

"Oh, it was nothing, Italy," Ireland replied, "That was just Romano hitting the table." The brunette stared at him for a second, becoming speechless at the lie.

"Oh, okay," Italy believed the lie, "Be more careful, fratello. That scared me." He then turned on his heel and walked back into the kitchen.

Romano looked over at Ireland, that fake innocent smile still on his lips.

"What was that?"

"Hmmmmmmm?" Ireland continued to play innocent.

"Why did you lie to my brother?"

"I don't think he needs to be involved in our little spat. Let's just have a nice lunch together, okay?"

"Yeah, let's try to enjoy ourselves today," Spain encouraged. Romano wanted to yell at both of them. Why were they against him? He's obviously trying to make sure Ireland doesn't hurt Italy. Why couldn't they see that?

Italy came in with a plate of lasagna and placed it at the center of the table. Ireland was amazed at how great it looked. He almost felt bad that he had to eat a piece of it. The food looked way too good to eat. Ireland's stomach didn't agree with him, though. Italy went back into the kitchen to get the proper utensils and the bottle of wine. Ireland kept staring at the food even after Italy returned.

"What do you call this, Italy?"

"It's lasagna! Trust me, you'll like it!" Italy cut out a piece for him and one for Ireland. The man stared at it for a little longer while Romano and Spain helped themselves. He cut out a bite-sized piece and chewed on it.

"Ve~! How is it?" Ireland didn't respond. He stared at his plate with calm eyes and no expression.

"Do you not like it, Seamus?" Spain asked after noticing the Irishman being quiet. He continued to stare at his plate, expression not changing.

"Well spit it out if you don't like it! We're not forcing you to eat it!" Ireland slowly looked up, tears beginning to form in his eyes, and swallowed the food.

"This is so good," he whispered. His face turned into a look of absolute bliss as he cut another piece.

"Ve~! It's that good?"

"Oh God, it's better than French food." That was way more than a compliment. When France cooks something, you expect it to be a masterpiece. Ireland's eaten plenty of France's dishes but this didn't even compare. He was basically telling Italy that he's a fantastic cook.

"Wow! Do you really mean it, Ireland?"

"Italy, you'll make a great husband." Ireland hadn't realized what he said until he looked up to see Romano glaring at him again. Italy hugged him tightly from the side and said "grazie" (T: thank you) over and over again. This was turning into an overwhelming afternoon for Ireland.

* * *

"You didn't have to help me with the dishes, Ireland. Fratello and I could've done it ourselves."

"At my house, it's considered nice to help the host clean up."

"Grazie! It does make things go faster." Ireland offered to help wash the dishes for Italy, who decided that they could both do it. Romano watched them from the doorway the entire time, still not being able to trust the two alone together. Spain had been in the living room, watching Romano trying to interfere with their alone time. Ireland had a feeling that this would be a normal occurence when visiting Italy's house.

"Well, I have to go," Ireland announced, "I've got work to do again."

"Ve~! Buona fortuna!" (T: Good luck!) Before leaving the kitchen, Ireland kissed Italy on the cheek. He turned to leave but Italy grabbed his hand. When Ireland turned around, the most adorable expression was placed on Italy's face. Just the sight of him made the Irishman blush a pale pink.

"No, Ireland! That's like a greeting! You have to do a real kiss!" Italy pointed at his own lips, indicating what he wanted. "Here." Ireland blushed a little harder at the Italian's request. How could this nation act so cute with everything he does? Still, Ireland didn't want to disappoint his boyfriend.

He leaned down and placed a kiss on Italy's lips. As usual, whenever they ended up kissing each other, it lasted longer than either of them expected. What seems like only a moment ends up being minutes as they break away for air. Ireland always ends up being the one who blushes the hardest.

"Are you two done now?" Romano asked rudely. Ireland looked over at him and shot him a kind smile.

"Yes, we are. Now you can have Italy all to yourself." Romano's face went red with rage. Ireland's smile was starting to make him sick.

_Is that bastard mocking me?_ Romano thought as Ireland walked past him. _Stupid drunken bastard!_

"Get out of my sight you asshole!" Romano yelled.

"Will do!" Ireland replied with an even bigger smile on his face. He left with a very angry Italian glaring daggers at his back.

Ireland walked through France's yard, thinking of his lunch with Italy. Besides being yelled at, threatened, falsely accused, and slapped by Romano, it was very nice. Even though the more irritated nation got on his nerves, Ireland was slowly warming up to Romano. He kind of reminded Ireland of his brothers. Maybe they'll be able to see each other as such one day.

_Wow..._ Ireland realized, _It's only been two days since that closet game and I'm thinking of a future with Italy. I guess this is what France means when he talks about falling hard in love..._ Ireland chuckled at that last thought. Being in love... it kind of made him feel faint. Not the type of fainting where you know you're going to black out at any second. He felt like he wanted to melt into Italy and become one.

Ireland jumped from France's dock to his brother, England's. He was going to continue walking and go through Wales when he heard something coming from England's house. It sounded like low moaning.

_Oh God,_ Ireland panicked, _What if he hurt himself and can't call for help? But, then his fairies would just go to one of us for assistantance. Oh, that's right. Scotland would mock him, Wales would make an excuse, and Northern Ireland would try to say very nicely that he doesn't care about England's well-being. And I'm not here as the other option!_

Ireland looked over at the living room window to see slight movement. He slowly walked over to it to peer inside.

_Maybe he just fell..._ Ireland considered. He stared further into the room to see England on the couch with a man on top of him. The man wore a white dress shirt, brown trousers, and had blonde hair. His back was turned to the window so Ireland couldn't see the man's face. He could only tell by the broadness of their shoulders that it was a male. A very tall male.

England was under the man, his face flushed, eyes half lidded, and his shirt was unbuttoned to reveal his smooth pale chest. The man on top held England's wrists together and above his head with one hand. The other trailed down his chest and stopped at his left nipple. He pinched at it and started playing with it, making England groan out, "Nooooooo...!"

_Oh my God, some man came in and is trying to rape my brother!_ Now Ireland was really panicked. He had to stop this from happening without attracting attention to himself.

That's when Ireland looked over and saw England's shed. He ran over to it, opened the door, and started looking for the one thing that will do the trick in stopping this rapist. He cursed when all he could find were rakes, trowels, shears, and hedge clippers. _Do you have anything that's _not_ a gardening tool, England?!_ Ireland screamed in his head. And that's when he found it. Leaning against the corner of the shed, next to the door, was a shovel.

Ireland grabbed the shovel and examined it. The tool weighed a little too lightly for his liking, the wooden handle hadn't developed splinters yet, and the metal part had very little dirt on it. It had obviously not been used for awhile. _It'll have to do..._

Ireland ran to the front door and opened it as quietly as possible. It was unlocked, worrying Ireland further. This was probably how the rapist got in. He crept through the front room and peeked behind the wall, clutching the shovel close to him. The man was still fooling around with England's chest, little gasps coming from the island nation in short breaths.

_Okay, this is for England..._ Ireland ran into the room, raised the shovel above his head, and brought it down hard on the man's skull. The rapist let out a pain-filled scream before falling on top of England and rolling off onto the floor. England jolted up suddenly, covered his chest with his shirt, and looked behind him to see Ireland with the shovel.

"What the bloody hell did you do that for?!" England yelled. _Wait... He's _mad_ that I stopped the guy from raping him?_

"What do you mean? I thought that guy was going to rape you!"

"'That guy' is America!"

"What?" Ireland looked closely at the man to see that his little brother was right. That was America on the floor, knocked out cold with a lump forming on his head. "Oh... sorry..."

"Sorry? You could've really injured him! Or miss and hit me by accident!"

"How the hell was I suppose to know that was America on top of you? His back was turned!"

"What do you mean his-" England stopped himself and looked behind him at the window Ireland was peering through. It showed a good view of the couch if one were to look from the outside. "Were you spying on us?"

"No! I just came back from visiting Italy and heard you moaning. I thought you were in pain so I decided to see if you were all right. When I saw America on top of you, I thought it was some guy trying to rape you. So I went into your shed, grabbed this shovel, came in here, and hit America on the head."

"How much of that did you see?" Apparently, England was more concerned over what Ireland saw instead of America's condition.

"Not much. I was too disturbed to watch." That's when it hit Ireland. Almost like how he hit America with the shovel, realization set in. "Why _is_ America at your house anyways?"

"We had a small meeting earlier this morning and Alfred didn't want to go back to his hotel room, so he decided to come home with me." England started blushing after this, finally buttoning his shirt back up. Ireland blushed as well after figuring out why England was embarrassed.

"I'll go get some ice for his head."

"Well, it was your fault."

"Well, you could've made it more or less obvious so that I would stay away," Ireland mocked his brother as he was going into the kitchen to make an ice pack.

"Fine. I'll tell my fairies to warn you so that you're prepared next time!" Ireland shuddered at the thought of going through all this again. Now that he mentioned it, he needed to kill something to get the image of his little brother and America out of his head. Maybe he should go to Northern Ireland's house so that his twin can yell at him.

"There won't be a next time, England!" He came back out with several cubes of ice wrapped in a wash cloth. They both heaved America back onto the couch and put the ice pack on his head. Ireland was starting to regret his actions, seeing as England looked a little worried.

"Deartháir beag, I'm so sorry," Ireland apologized. England twitched and looked up at him. The Brit's eyes held anticipation and hope.

"What did you say?"

"I told you I'm sorry. How many times do I have to-"

"No not that. What did you call me just now?" Ireland thought about it for a second before remembering the old pet name. He looked down at the floor looking ashamed.

"Sorry, England. It just slipped." 'Deartháir beag' is Gaelic for 'little brother.' When they were younger, it was Ireland's way of showing affection towards England. He didn't address England as this while in the United Kingdom because he was really angry at him for forcing him to join. When his fight for independence was over, he didn't even refer to England as his brother. It's been a very long time since the British nation heard Ireland call him that.

"It's okay," England reasured him, "I don't mind." Ireland looked up at England to see that he spoke the truth. He smiled warmly at him, feeling happier that he can express his brotherly affection for England again. In return, his little brother smiled back.

America stirred slightly in his unconscious sleep. The two island nations looked at him in surprise. They weren't expecting him to be out for such a short time. America opened one eye and looked back and forth from England to Ireland then back to England.

"What happened? I feel like an anvil was dropped on my head." America felt for the bump but found the ice pack instead.

"Well, I'll leave you two alone to sort this out," Ireland said while standing up.

"Wait, what's Seamus doing here?"

"The anvil that fell on you?" America nodded as Ireland walked outside with the shovel. He was going to put it back even though it seems to be a waste. "That was Seamus hitting you with a shovel."

"That was a shovel?" America asked incredulously. England nodded. "Damn! He hits really hard!"

"I know. I've been in your position."

"You mean he hit you for no reason?"

"No. Just... don't sneak up on him while he's farming."


	10. Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!

Ireland comes to visit Italy who decides to show him around the wonderful city of Venice. With the beautiful sites, great food, calm atmosphere, and cheery weather, what could possible make this a bad day? Unfortunately, one thing does make this day become horrible... for Ireland. But Italy? We'll have to see.

Again, I'm sorry if the translations are wrong or if anything in this chapter is out of place. Enjoy!

* * *

Months passed since Ireland and Italy began their relationship, and they couldn't be any happier. Every day before and after Ireland had to work on his crops, he'd visit Italy. They'd go for walks, sometimes Italy would cook for him, or they'd sit around Italy's house and hang out. On more than one occasion, the two would run into other couples on their walks. Once, they ran into France and Canada coming back from grocery shopping. Another time Italy was in Ireland's country and they came across America and England playfully arguing about something America did. Spain often came over so he and Romano were always together (though, Romano tends to yell at Spain whenever he comes over).

After Ireland's little "incident" at England's house, he'd do nothing but apologize every time he ran into America. Thankfully for Ireland, America is a forgiving person and told him it wasn't a big deal. He understood that Ireland was just trying to protect England and he would've done something similar in his situation.

Speaking of protective older siblings, Romano still acts rudely around Ireland whenever he comes over. Although, it seems to have let up slightly after several weeks. Ireland only noticed this after Spain commented that Romano hasn't been as mean to him lately. Maybe Romano's finally coming around to the fact that Italy won't be separating from Ireland anytime soon. He still likes to tease the older Italian with a smile, though.

It was a bright beautiful day today. The sun shined high in the sky, there were very little clouds, and a slight breeze flew through the city they were in. Italy was finally able to show Ireland around Venice. He'd been wanting to do that for awhile but Ireland was a little too busy to tour his country. Now that he had some free time, Italy showed him all the great sights, they took a tour of one of Italy's favourite art museums, and they were planning on taking a ride in a gondola that evening. Ireland had his camera ready at all times and already collected many photos on his trip to the beautiful Italian city.

"Ve~! That's a really good picture of the Palazzo Ducale!"

"You think so?" Ireland asked as he stared at his picture of the building.

"Ve~! Seamus~! Let's go over there~!" Italy pointed to a restaurant at the end of the street, grabbing Ireland's hand and dragging him towards it.

"You're hungry again, Feliciano? But we had some pevarini about 10 minutes ago!"

"Ve~! For a snack! Now it's lunch time~!" Ireland chuckled at his boyfriend's almost constant need for food. _Oh, Feliciano. What am I gonna do with you?_

They were seated at a table outside and sat across from each other. Since Ireland knew little Italian, Italy ordered their drinks and helped Ireland pick something to eat. He settled with lasagna (his favourite food when visiting Italy) while Italy chose spaghetti. As they were waiting for their meals to be served, Italy and Ireland decided to look at all the photos taken on the tour.

"Wow, Seamus! You take really good pictures!"

"Go raibh maith agat, Feliciano!" (T: Thank you) As Ireland was flipping through the pictures, he realized that he never took any shots of him or Italy. He had many of the artwork in the museum, some of Venice's most famous and beautiful monuments, and a few shots of Italy's architecture. But none of them posing in front of the monuments, artwork, buildings, or even of themselves standing together side-by-side.

"Feliciano, what are we doing after this?"

"I was thinking we could walk over to the Ponte di Rialto so you can see the Grand Canal. Oh, and maybe we can look around at the shops while we're there!"

"That sounds like fun! Maybe we can take pictures of each other while we're over there."

"Ve~! That'll be really nice!" At that moment, the waitress came back with their meals. The couple split apart to eat the delicious food laid out in front of them. Ireland fell in love with Italian food ever since his lunch with Italy. For a moment, he understands why Italy eats a lot.

"Feliciano~! You're food is as delectable as ever~!"

"Ve~! Grazie, grazie~!"

When they finished their meal, they left to explore the Ponte di Rialto. Ireland was so amazed by the bridge that he couldn't help but snap away at his camera. He completely forgot about taking photos of him and Italy near the bridge.

As they were walking through the masterpiece, Ireland heard a very insistent, kind of loud voice behind them. He could bearly make out what was being said. What he did understand was that it was getting closer. And... wait... was that a... German accent?

Ireland turned around just in time to see Germany running towards them yelling Italy's human name over and over again.

"Feliciano Vargas!" Germany was now a few feet away from them. Italy heard his name yelled out in a deep tone and jumped, shrieking at the sound. When he turned around, he saw Germany stop in front of Ireland. He must not have ran for too long because he bearly panted out a breath.

"Ger-! Ludwig! What's wrong? You sounded urgent!"

"Feliciano, there's something I need to tell you." Germany looked over at Ireland who looked both confused and curious. "In private. If you don't mind, Seamus."

"Oh, I don't mind at all. I'll just be over here when you're done."

"Danke. Come on, Feliciano." (T: Thank you) By this time, they already made it across the bridge, so they were in the streets again. Germany and Italy walked down the street for several yards until they turned the corner. For whatever reason, Ireland couldn't explain, he felt the need to follow them. Ireland isn't known for eavesdropping and doesn't hold any interest in it. Although, something kept nagging in the back of his head that he had to follow them and hear what Germany had to tell Italy.

Ireland slipped through the crowds and walked towards the street corner they turned to. When he peeked his head around and saw them standing there, he quickly pressed himself against the wall. He could hear them pretty well and it sounded like he made it in time. He could hear Germany clearing his throat, an indication that he was about to speak.

"Italy, remember that boy you told me about? The one from your childhood that went to war? Holy Roman Empire?"

_Holy Roman Empire? Why is he bringing him up right now?_ Ireland still remembered the little empire that always went after Italy. He was never able to meet him because he always hid whenever he came over to visit Italy. Italy might not have noticed but Ireland always saw it when Holy Rome moved away from a window, or quickly hid himself in his hiding place. He didn't know why the young empire did that. It wasn't until Spain told him one day about his speculation that the boy had a crush on Italy that he understood.

Ireland was also aware that Holy Roman Empire disappeared. He's heard numerous stories on what happened to him. He died during battle but his body was never found or properly laid to rest. He ran off and is hiding amongst us somewhere. He escaped a brutle battle but slipped into a coma and lost his memories and/or eventually died. He's heard almost every story and rumor about his disappearance but never knew which one to believe in. He never bothered to ask Italy about Holy Rome either. He didn't want to reopen any wounds that were made if it affected Italy. He believed that Italy would talk to him about it when he was comfortable enough.

"Germany..." Italy sounded very serious. Not even Ireland had heard Italy talk to him in a serious tone. "Why would you do that? You're being really mean!"

"Italy, you have to listen to me."

"No! Don't say another word!"

"It's not what you thi-"

"Please, Germany!"

"Italy-"

"Stop it! I don't want to hear-"

"I'm the Holy Roman Empire!" There was silence after that. Complete silence. For a second, Ireland thought he misheard him. _How could he be the Holy Roman Empire? That's not possible. I watched him grow up as a child._

"...What?" Italy's voice was bearly above a whisper.

"Yes. I am- or, well, I _was_- the Holy Roman Empire."

"Are you serious?"

"Italy, why would I lie about something like this?"

"I can't believe it... It really is you... I always thought so..."

Ireland stayed pressed against the wall in utter shock. He just heard Germany confess that he was the Holy Roman Empire. He was Italy's childhood friend. He was the small boy that would hide when he visited Italy. He was the one who wanted Italy to become the new Roman Empire with him.

_So... He didn't die... He just disappeared... He's alive now... And he's Germany instead of Holy Rome..._

Ireland sorted out this information in his head, making sure he was following along with what Germany just said. He softly sighed in relief at this. Everything's okay now. Holy Rome isn't dead or gone forever. He was here right under everyone's noses as Germany. So, now Italy won't be sad anymore and everyone's happy.

_"You know? I think Holy Rome had a crush on little Italy," Spain chuckled happily at the thought._

_"Oh, really?" Ireland asked in curiousity. "What made you think that?"_

_"Holy Roman Empire was always chasing after Italy! And sometimes Italy was chasing after Holy Roman Empire! It was so cute~! You should've been there to see it!"_

_"Well, maybe if he actually showed up when I came over instead of hid, then I would've been able to properly meet him."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"He always watched Italy and me from a window or behind a tree whenever I visited. I guess he was shy or something."_

_"Or maybe he was jealous." Ireland looked up at Spain, raising an eyebrow._

_"Jealous? Why would he be jealous?"_

_"Because you stole Italy's attention when you came over! Maybe he saw you as competition and felt threatened!" Ireland looked at him weirdly. Why would the late, great Holy Roman Empire be jealous of Ireland? Compared to him, Ireland was no more than a peasant. He always showed up dirty from farming or wore his old, casual clothes. Holy Rome would've been considered a noble and Ireland was sure he must've worn nice clothes on a daily basis. Just because they were friends didn't mean something would happen. He and France have been friends since they were small and they don't see each other as anything more._

Okay, that's not true. France has been a little... strange ever since he hit puberty. Or was he always like that? Well, we don't like each other that way. I'm pretty sure he just flirts with me because it's second nature to him.

_No matter which way Ireland looked at it, he didn't see what Holy Rome had to be worried about. Italy would grow up and unite with a noble or a soldier or anyone else of higher class. Ireland's a farmer. Farmers rarely ever marry those of a greater class than them._

Remembering that memory from so long ago, Ireland began to worry. Holy Rome is alive. He was Germany all along. Germany and Italy are best friends. They've been there for each other during both World Wars and afterwards. They are very close. If Germany was Holy Rome and he had feelings for Italy...

_That can only mean one thing,_ Ireland thought from the realization, _Holy Rome might want Italy back._

* * *

Palazzo Ducale - Translates to Doge's Palace. Housed and was the headquarters of the Republic of Venice's leader, the Doge. Today it's a museum.

Pevarini - A traditional cookie of Venice made with molasses, lard, white pepper, and flour.

Ponte di Rialto - Translates to Rialto Bridge. It is one of the most famous bridges in Venice that looms over the Grand Canal.


	11. Goodbye Italy

Wow, that was a surprise (unless you were suspecting Germany to be Holy Rome all along). Now an even worse surprise awaits Ireland when he believes the worst will become of his relationship with Italy. Then, the last person Ireland ever thought would contact him asks to speak with him.

I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I think there's one more chapter to go until the story's over! Don't worry, it won't end in sadness. I'm not that cruel.

* * *

Ireland hurried back to the bridge, not waiting to see if they would continue their conversation or walk back to where Ireland was supposed to be. All Ireland could think about was the possibility that Holy Rome/Germany has finally decided to claim Italy. How long has he known that he was the Holy Roman Empire? Why decide today of all days to confess this to Italy?

Ireland made it to the bridge, leaning against the wall and panting. His fears were catching up to him as his body began to shake uncontrolably. He didn't want to lose Italy when their relationship was going so well. He really enjoyed Italy's company and affectionate nature. He could never look at Italy the same again if this happened. There would be the knowledge that they use to date and a part of Ireland that will always love Italy. This can't happen!

_Feliciano,_ Ireland began imagining the scenario of Italy telling him that he wants to be with Holy Rome instead of him. _Just let me down easy if you want this. Don't be blunt about it and don't you dare smile so sweetly when telling me. Just tell it to me straight with a sad little grin and let me go home._

"Seamus~!" Ireland heard his name being called from a short distance. He turned around to find Italy running towards him. He had a huge smile on his face and he looked absolutely joyous. Germany/Holy Roman Empire was walking steadily behind him near the corner they were at.

_Wait, you're actually happy?_ He expected Italy to be pleased that his childhood friend returned and maybe a little guilty about deciding to be with him. Italy sounded like he was the happiest nation in the world. This really worried Ireland.

"Wow, that was pretty fast," Ireland said, regaining his composure but still slightly shaking, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fantastic!" Italy exclaimed, waving his arms in the air for emphasise.

_'Fantastic...?' Oh no..._ Ireland's fears were confirmed. Italy does want to be with Holy Rome. Even worse, Italy looks so happy to tell him this.

"Oh, so there's nothing wrong?"

"Nope!" Italy's smile didn't falter a bit as he answered Ireland's question.

"Ah, well, that's good." _I don't want to hear any of this._ Ireland felt his heart sink at how overjoyed Italy seemed. He looked behind Italy to see Germany getting closer.

_If you're not going to let me down easily, I'll just leave. You obviously seem happier being around him._

Ireland felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out. He didn't recognize the number but answered it.

"Hello?"

"Ireland..." The red-head widened his eyes in shock at the voice coming from the phone.

"Northern Ireland?"

"Yeah, it's me..." Ireland was still a bit shocked to hear his voice. After years of dispute between their countries following Ireland's independence, the two avoided each other. They didn't speak, it was an occasion when they encountered each other (except at meetings), and it was very rare to see them speaking to each other without being mad or bringing up the past. To have his north western neighbor call him was the first. He wasn't even sure how he got his number.

"Is everything okay?" Ireland asked cautiously. When it came to the two interacting, Northern Ireland would easily snap and yell at his brother for no reason. Around others, he would remain calm and try to refrain from causing any arguements or fights.

"Yeah, everything's fine..." There was a long pause after this. Ireland wasn't sure if his twin just didn't have anything to say or was calling for no exact reason. He was about to ask why he called when he heard the man clear his throat. "I wanted to know if you... wanted to... come over... or something like that..."

Now Ireland was really shocked. His brother never invited him over. Ever. Sure, he was asked to attend different celebrations and holidays like Christmas and Halloween, but those were always held at England's house. The Irishmen have never even been inside either of their houses.

"Northern Ireland? Are you okay?"

"Look, I know this sounds weird but can you just come over, please?" he said a little too quickly for Ireland to understand.

"O-Okay... I'm on my way..." Ireland hung up and saw Italy staring at him in concern.

"Is everything okay, Seamus?"

"Ummm, no. Not really." Ireland brainstormed for something to tell Italy that would convince him to let him leave. "Ugh, Northern Ireland is having some troubles at his house and he wants me to help out."

"I thought you and Northern Ireland weren't talking."

"Yes, well, he only contacts me for really important stuff."

"Oh... Do you have to go now?"

"Yes! I have to leave right now!"

"But, Seamus! What about the gondola ride?" Ireland's heart sank even more. How could Italy say such a senseless thing? Is he intending to do more than break his heart?

"I'm very sorry, Feliciano! Maybe the next time I visit?"

"Do you think you can come back later so we can do it?" Ireland put on one of the fakest smiles he could muster and cheerfully said, "I'll see what I can do. If I can't then I promise that my next visit will include a gondola ride."

"Ve... Okay."

With that, Ireland ran through Venice and crossed the border to France's land. He tried to keep the tears from falling but a few persisted down his cheek. He didn't want to believe that any of this was happening but Italy's happy looking face haunted his thoughts.

It wasn't long before Ireland showed up at his younger twin's front door, knocking on it harshly.

"I know you're here so stop pounding on the door!" Northern Ireland exclaimed as he swung the door open. Though they were twins, they hardly resembled each other. Northern Ireland's hair was a mixture between orange and red instead of being completely orange like his brother's, or completely red like Scotland's. His eyes were a pale green while Ireland's were much darker. Northern Ireland also lacked freckles and glasses and his eyebrows aren't as bad as Ireland's. Their clothing also differed, the Northern part preferring softer earth-toned colors over his older brother's liking to darker shades. Ireland also dressed very casually while Northern Ireland wore more dressy clothes like their older brothers.

"I'm sorry," Ireland said, his voice a little hushed, "I just have a lot on my mind right now." He wiped away at his face roughly before looking Northern Ireland in the eye.

"Why... Why are you crying...?" the younger asked, a little unsure about the situation.

"I'm not crying," Ireland lied, "A bug flew into my eye."

"Both of them?"

"Maybe..." Northern Ireland stared at him for a moment before pulling him into the house.

"Sit here," the darker red-head ordered, "I'll get you a drink."

"You don't have to do that," Ireland replied, sitting on the couch.

"If you don't drink something you'll be crying for hours." It's said that alcohol can be similar to an antidepressant. Even though both Irelands couldn't become drunk easily, alcoholic beverages relaxed them.

After a few minutes, Northern Ireland came back into the living with two glasses of whisky. He gave one to Ireland who gladly accepted it. They both sat there in silence, drinking their liquor in big sips. Eventually, Northern Ireland couldn't take it anymore and placed his glass on the coffee table.

"So, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

"Bullshit. Did that Bad Friends Group, or whatever they call themselves, pick on you for wearing a kilt again?"

"No. Just forget it."

"Are your crops horrible?"

"My crops are fine now drop it."

"Did Belarus try to kill you because you asked Russia to go to the pub with you?"

"No. I've learned to ask him to go drinking when Belarus is somewhere else. I told you it was nothing so don't worry about it."

"Fine," Northern Ireland shrugged, taking another long sip of his whisky, "I won't question it anymore. Just remember that piece of advice you gave me when we were young."

"What advice?"

"Remember? It was when Big Brother Scotland ruined that crown we made out of clovers for Eldest Brother Wales. It was spring and we wanted to do something nice for our brothers, but Scotland had to be an ass and destroy our crown."

"Oh, I do recall this now."

"Yeah. You got mad at him and he made me cry. Then you turned to me and said..." Ireland chuckled a little at the memory.

"I said, 'It's okay to cry, North. It's good to let it all out every now and then.'"

"And that's what I'm trying to tell you. Whatever upset you today, just let it out, do your normal business, drink a lot of alcohol, and go to sleep."

"I don't know if this is something I can sleep off."

"Things always work out fine in the end." Ireland stared at his brother questioningly, sipping at his drink again.

"By the way, why did you tell me to come over?" Northern Ireland, who was in the middle of finishing his whisky, did a spit take at the question. He coughed slightly as he looked over at his brother.

"Wh-What?"

"You called me and told me to come over here. So, why did you do that? Also, how did you get my cell phone number?"

Northern Ireland fidgetted with his empty glass for a moment before stuttering out, "I-I, well, m-my boss to b-be more exact, wanted to s-s-see if we could, ummmmm, how do I put this...?" Ireland stared at him, waiting for his twin to finish answering. Northern Ireland wasn't very good with talking to people. He's very shy and only speaks when he needs to or when spoken to. "M-M-My boss thought it would be a good idea if... if... we started... speaking... again."

"You mean, he wants us to go back to the way things were before 'that stuff' happened?"

"Ummmm, yeah. Pretty much."

"Is that something you'd be willing to do?"

"I don't know," Northern Ireland admitted. Ireland could only guess what was going through his younger brother's head at the moment. Before he split away from the United Kingdom, Northern Ireland loved and depended on him. All that changed the night Ireland declared his independence. He drifted away from his older twin and began to resent him. Ireland would understand if his second youngest brother didn't want this.

Ireland stood up and put his glass down. He turned toward the door but stopped to look back at Northern Ireland.

"You know? I don't care what your decision is. Honestly, I'd be okay if we returned to those days. But, this is something you'll have decide on your own. Just make sure that you don't live to regret your decision." Ireland walked toward the door and was about to turn the knob when he heard his brother say, "Scotland." Ireland turned to look at him, a little confused.

"What?"

"Big Brother gave me your number so that I could call you. Although, I'm not very good at phone conversation."

"Oh, okay then. Have a nice afternoon."

"Try to do the same." Ireland walked out the door and exited the house. He felt a little better talking to his twin brother. Still, he couldn't stop from drinking four bottles of whisky that night as he cried himself to sleep.


	12. Answers

Well, that's a bit depressing. Ireland begins avoiding Italy in fear of what he'll say. One day, he goes to Spain's country for advice but ends up being confronted by Romano. This encounter leads him to Germany's house. He's there for one reason and one reason only: to get some answers.

Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. So, here's two new chapters for your patience! Enjoy!

* * *

Through the next week, things weren't looking up for Ireland. Italy kept trying to come over or call him to talk about him visiting again. Whenever Italy did this, Ireland would listen to him until he brought up the conversation he had with Germany. Ireland would lie and say he had to do something important and hang up.

Ireland knew he couldn't run forever. Eventually, Italy would have to confront him about it and he'd have to hear the awful news. He just didn't want it to be now especially with Italy acting so happy about it.

It was a Thursday afternoon that Ireland found himself at Spain's house. Usually when Ireland needs advice, specifically love advice, he'll go to Spain's house. He figured that maybe the Spaniard would be able to help him in this situation.

On his way to Spain's house, Ireland ended up seeing very familiar couples. It was a sunny day at England's house, so he and America had afternoon tea outside. Through an opened window, Ireland could see France and Canada baking a cake together. Sweden and Finland were walking their dog, Hanatamago, in one of France's parks. Near them was a blanket and a picnic basket. In Germany's land, Ireland could see Austria and Hungary walking down the street hand-in-hand.

Before getting into a relationship with Italy, Ireland never cared about the couples around him. It was normal to see two people in love on the streets. Today seemed different though. When Ireland saw these nations together, happy and loving towards their significant others, he felt pain in his chest. He was also jealous seeing them happy. It was strange to him that he'd feel jealous. Maybe it's because he feels that Italy would much rather be with Germany just because he's his long lost friend.

_It would make sense,_ Ireland thought to himself as he walked towards Spain's border, _What made me think that the grandson of Ancient Rome would choose me over someone like Holy Roman Empire?_

Ireland wasn't paying attention to his surroundings that much. He didn't notice the angry Italian nation storming over to him. He also didn't hear the man insult him before pushing him up against a wall. If this were a human, he'd try to get away or talk his way out of the man's harmful intent. But the one staring his bright brown eyes into Ireland's dull green ones wasn't going to let him get away so easily.

"You fucking drunk bastard!" Romano yelled, "Listen to me when I'm talking!" Ireland stared at him for a moment, not understanding what he was screaming about.

"Oh, sorry, Lovino. I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"Damn right you weren't! Now you have no choice but to listen!"

"What do you want, Lovino? I have to go to Spain's h-"

"I don't care what you have to do! You'll stay here until I'm finished!"

"What do you want?" Ireland asked with agitation thick in his voice.

"My stupid little brother is upset and it's all your fault!"

"Are you sure he's not out of pasta or something?" Romano slapped him across his right cheek.

"Don't you _dare_ take his feelings so lightly! He may be a crybaby but he can feel!" Ireland looked down at him with a serious face. There must be something going on for Romano to confront him like this.

"Okay. I'm sorry I said that," Ireland said calmly, "Now tell me what's wrong with Italy." Romano narrowed his eyes at Ireland.

"As if you don't already know."

"Honestly, I thought he'd be happy."

"Happy? You expected him to be _happy?_"

"Why wouldn't he be? Isn't this what he's always wanted?" Romano gripped at Ireland's shirt tightly. His fists were still shaking as he bunched up the fabric in his hands.

"What kind of boyfriend are you? You're so heartless!"

"Me? How am I heartless? I'm just doing what's best for him!"

"Leaving him to cry at home all day because he thinks you hate him is best for him?" The Irish nation raised an eyebrow at the older Italian.

"Wait, what?"

"You keep avoiding him so he believes you hate him! And you never say what you're doing besides that you're 'busy!' If I knew any better, I'd say you were cheating on him!"

"Wait, that's what he's upset about?"

"Of course, you dumbass! Why else would he be soaking the bed sheets every night?!"

"I thought it had something to do with Germany being Holy Roman Empire." Romano looked up him in disbelief.

"Is that why you've been avoiding him?"

"I don't know if you know this or not, but Holy Rome use to like Italy when they were little. If he harbors those same feelings, then what's the point of me still being with Italy?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Do you think this is a joke?"

"No. You're just so stupid."

"What?" Ireland asked, giving Romano a confused look.

"The only reason I'm not telling you shit is because my idiotic brother told me not to. He wanted to tell you face-to-face."

"Tell me what?"

"I'll give you a hint: it's not what you're thinking." Seeing Ireland's slightly confused face made the Italian sigh in irritation. "Veneciano isn't in the condition to explain it, so just go to the potato-bastard's house." Romano let go of him and started to walk off but turned around.

"You know? I didn't think you were such a pussy about this love thing. Why don't you grow some balls and face your fears like a man?" With that, the brunette walked off into the crowd and disappeared.

Ireland stood there and thought about everything Romano had told him. Italy was upset because Ireland was avoiding him. So, Italy wasn't planning to leave him. But why was he so happy?

_I'll give you a hint: it's not what you're thinking._ The words replayed in Ireland's mind until he realized what Romano meant.

_Oh my god, I _am_ stupid! Why didn't I see it before?_ The red-head ran over to Germany's house as soon as the realization hit him. If Germany has no intention of being with Italy, maybe it's not as bad as he thinks it is. If so, then maybe the reason Italy was so happy was because it was something good.

Reaching the German's front door, Ireland knocked on it harshly until the blonde man appeared. Panting from the long run to his house, Ireland looked up at him with all seriousness in his eyes.

"Germany," the Irishman began, "I need to talk to you."

"I see. Come in." Ireland was brought into the dining room where the two nations sat across from each other.

"Would you like something to drink?" Germany offered.

"No. I'm fine. I think you know why I'm here. Right, Holy Roman Empire?"

"Ja. I was wondering when Italy would tell you."

"About that. Italy didn't tell me. I overheard your conversation that day. But I don't know anything that happened after that."

"Then allow me to explain. Many years ago, I was known as the Holy Roman Empire. I tried to get Italy to join me but he didn't want to. He said something about Ancient Rome being too powerful was why he fell. He didn't want to go through the same thing, as well as myself."

Ireland paid close attention to Germany's story. It was still amazing to him that he was sitting across from Holy Rome. Or, at least what was left of him.

"I went to war despite what he wanted. I thought he was tired of me trying to make him join my empire. It turned out that I was wrong."

Ireland perked up at this. This sounded a little similar to his situation.

"I was just a kid but I swore that I was in love with Italy. Before I left, he gave me his deck brush. I assumed it was because of this one day I saw him cleaning in my house and tried to confront him." Germany blushed a little at the memory. "Thinking about it, I guess it was the only thing he could offer to me. I cherished that broom as if it was the world's greatest fortune."

Germany forced himself out of the memory to look Ireland in the eye. He was nothing but serious when he told Ireland, "You may not want to hear this part of the story. I know how you two feel about each other."

"It's okay. I can handle it."

"My gift of rememberance to Italy was a kiss. I wanted to leave him something to remember me by. When I asked him what people at his house give to those they liked, he said a kiss. So, the last thing we had to remember each other was the kiss."

Ireland shivered slightly at the image of a young Holy Rome and Italy sharing their first kiss. So innocent. So sad. Their first and last kiss together before Holy Rome disappeared.

"Are you okay?" Germany asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine. You may continue."

"All right. After I left my home, I went into war for a long time. I don't remember how long it was but all I could think about was coming home to Italy." Ireland's fingers twitched at the statement. He had to remind himself not to get worked up. There was a reason Germany was telling the story.

"During one of the many battles I fought, I ended up getting seriously hurt. A few of my men took pity on me for being so young and involved in a war. They instructed me to run away and used Italy to tempt me. I never wanted to run but they told me that I'd have to learn to follow orders one day if I wanted to be a great empire. So, when the battle was raging and everyone was too busy to look my way, I ran."

"You actually ran away ftom a fight?"

"It would be my last, I made sure of that. But that night would change my life forever. It was the middle of winter. The snow was beginning to fall again as I escaped into a wooded area. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to tell everyone when I returned. I just wanted to get to shelter.

"The snow wouldn't stop coming down. It was quickly getting darker, disabling me to use my eyes. All I remember was walking and suddenly losing my footing. I found out later that I fell off the side of a hill and hit my head pretty hard on a rock. I bet you can guess what happened after that."

"You lost your memories."

"Correct. I would've been dead if Prussia's men hadn't found me. They said I was engulfed in snow but they saw my clothing peeking through it. They were able to get me to a medic before hypothermia completely set in. I was as cold as death, they said. But, Prussia was able to notice that I healed differently from humans. That was how I realized I was a nation. Prussia raised me as his brother but I was the one who decided to be named Germany."

"Well, that explains why I met you as a small child when Prussia introduced us. Usually a new nation is still the size of a toddler when they're established."

"Exactly. I noticed that a few times but never thought to ask Prussia about it."

"Did Prussia know that you were Holy Rome?"

"I talked to him about it before going to you and Italy. He said he thought about it at times but didn't think I could be Holy Rome. There were a lot of stories going around that I died in the war, so he assumed that was true."

"But really you were right here." Ireland was a little intrigued by this new information. He could only guess how Italy must've thought when hearing this. Maybe this was what made him happy. Italy...

"Holy- I mean, Ger- Wait... dammit."

"I'm no longer the Holy Roman Empire so there is no need to call me by that name. I am Germany. Have been for centuries, will be for now on."

"Okay, so Germany. How did you ever regain your memories?"

"I've actually been able to remember little bits of my old life ever since Prussia found me. At night, I would mostly have dreams of me and Italy as children. Other times I had dreams of the battles I fought."

"So, did you suddenly have a dream about everything and it all came back to you?"

"Not exactly. I was talking to Prussia about a few things and he started bringing up the past. He said something about me always carrying around a deck brush when I was small. Hearing this made me think of the dreams again except they felt more like thoughts I'd forgotten. I went upstairs to take a nap because all these thoughts were giving me a headache. I had a dream where I parted from Italy in our childhood. After I watched what happened, it all came back to me."

"So when you woke up from it, you knew you had to tell Italy."

"Yes. I thought he deserved to know even if he ended up hurt." Ireland looked down at the wooden table. Why did he have to act like that? He should've listened to Italy the moment he returned from talking to Germany. Then he wouldn't be upset and things would be a little normal. But, Germany still hadn't said where he stands in Italy's life.

"Germany, there's something I must ask you before we close this discussion."

"What is it?"

"Do you plan to claim Italy as your own? Answer honestly. Don't tell me what I want to hear." The German nation was silent for a moment as he thought over what to tell Ireland. The red-headed nation was doing his best to look as calm as he could. Inside, he was very nervous about Germany's answer.

"Ireland, I'm always going to love Italy. Even though he's a boy, there's always going to be that part of me that loves him." Ireland thought his heart would've literally cracked at this moment. Not exactly break but begin to crack.


	13. Consent, Agreements, and Forgiveness

I don't feel like being a sadist and leaving you guys with a cliff hanger, so here's the 13th chapter (there will be one more after this because Ireland says so). So, how is this going to turn out now? So much for one day, huh?

I hope you guys enjoy this! If the ending sounds a bit rushed, I'm sorry. Also, if I got any of the translations wrong, I am sorry for that as well.

* * *

"But," Germany continued, interrupting Ireland's thoughts, "I think it would be best if you and Italy stayed together." The green-eyed nation blinked at the man across from him. He was wondering if he even heard that right.

"W-What?"

"I think you and Italy should continue being a couple."

_This can't be happening... Is he really saying what I think he's saying?_

"Are you serious?" Ireland asked.

"I've had a lot of time to think and I've spent a good portion of my life with Italy. I would rather see him with you than anyone else."

"But, Germany... You don't have to sacrifice your love because of this. That's not fair for you."

"It's kind of humorous, actually. When I was a kid, when I was Holy Rome, I use to be jealous of you. You and Italy just seemed to click together without any problems while we would have a little trouble talking to each other at times. I use to think you'd try to hurt him because you were older and had an opportunity to take advantage of him. But you didn't do anything to harm Italy.

"And yet, when I was raised by Prussia as Germany, I respected you. You weren't like my brother or his friends. You were almost like the voice of reason in the middle of their madness. So, I saw you as good example for a younger nation."

"Why are you bringing this up?"

"Because I've learned to grow up. The empire that use to see you as a threat turned into a small nation that saw you as a good person. And right now, I think you'd be a good choice for Italy. I trust you not to hurt him, Ireland."

"So, you'd really be okay with us dating?"

"Ja, I wouldn't approve of it if I didn't trust you. Although, just one more thing."

"What is it?" Germany stared him straight in the eye and gave Ireland the sternest look he's ever given anyone.

"If you do anything to hurt him or make him wish he wasn't in a relationship with you, I will make sure you feel sorry. Do you understand?" Ireland cringed at the look he was receiving from Germany. He didn't need a warning to know what Germany would do to him.

"Y-Y-Yes. I understand..."

"Good. Now..." The German stood up from his seat and pushed his chair back in. "I believe there's something very important you must do." Ireland stood up quickly as soon as Germany said that.

"Ah! That's right! I have to do something before I destroy this relationship!" Before Germany could suggest anything, the Irishman was out the door, in the streets. The blonde sighed before grabbing a broom and sweeping up the dirt Ireland tracked in.

Footsteps sounded as Prussia descended the stairs into the living room. He walked to where Germany was, still sweeping up the bits of dirt from the floor. Prussia smirked at his little brother cleaning up the mess.

"So, it went well?" Prussia asked, still smirking at Germany.

"Ja."

"That's good. Now everybody's happy."

"Not quite. Ireland still worries about Italy."

"Then he better not screw up or else everything's messed up again."

"I'm just glad that he understands I'm not after Italy."

"Ja," Prussia walks over to Germany and whispers in his ear, "Oder mein Deutschland." (T: Or my Germany) Prussia pecks Germany on his cheek, whose face flares up at the sudden contact.

* * *

Ireland ran home after his talk with Germany. He was in lighter spirits now that he knows that Italy isn't going to be with Germany. But he felt that he should make it up to Italy by doing something really special for him. At the moment, he wasn't sure what to do.

As Ireland turned up the street to his house, he saw someone sitting on the front steps of his home. When he was able to get close enough, he saw it was his twin.

"Northern Ireland? Did something happen?" The man stood up from the entrance to the house and walked towards Ireland.

"That thing my boss wants us to do? Well, I thought about it for awhile and I've finally decided on my answer." Curious, Ireland stared at his younger twin, noticing the serious look he was giving him. For a short moment, they stayed like this. When Northern Ireland extended his right hand to his brother, he instantly took the hint. He brought his hand to his brother's and held it firmly, the northern part of him squeezing back.

"You're okay with this, Northern Ireland?"

"Yeah. I'll need time to adjust but I'll be fine." Ireland nodded and let his hand drop back to his side.

"Take all the time you need. I'll just be across the border if you need me."

"Yeah." As Ireland was heading inside, his younger twin stopped him.

"Hey, I heard a rumor that you and Italy are having a tough time. Is this what you've been upset about for the past week?"

"Kind of. I'm trying to help the relationship before it's damaged too badly."

"Do you need help?" Northern Ireland asked a little hesitantly. Ireland stared as his sibling shifted from one foot to the other nervously. Now that he thought about it, there was one thing Ireland wanted to do for Italy but never got around to it. If he had an extra pair of hands, it could really help.

"I think I might," Ireland said with a happier tone to his voice. The redish-orange-haired nation looked up with hopeful eyes. This would be the first time in a very long time that they actually do something together.

"What can I do?"

"How are your cooking skills?"

* * *

"Calm down, he'll show up."

"But what if he doesn't? All because I avoided him due to a misunderstanding!"

"Seriously, calm down. You know what thinking pessimistic thoughts do."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just really nervous." Ireland was circling around his living room nervously while Northern Ireland sat on the couch watching him.

It was the day after Ireland went to Germany to listen to him and Northern Ireland decided to start speaking to him again. Ireland had to fix his relationship with Italy before the Italian began thinking that Ireland truly did hate him. He thought the only way to solve this was to go through Italy's stomach. He was going to make lunch for him.

Of course, this wasn't as simple as it sounded. Both Irelands didn't know how to make Italian food. They had to search online to find a recipe and then buy the necessary ingrediants to make the meal. Even if they had the instructions and supplies, there was always the possibility that it may not turn out so well. Both of their cooking skills were fairly well but neither exceptionally bad or good. You can eat their food but you'll most likely compare it to something a little better. So, the food the twins prepared is not going to be as impressive as Italy's.

"He sounded happy on the phone, didn't he?" Northern Ireland asked.

"Yes but-"

"Then it should go well."

"But he's bringing Romano with him."

"Oh... this shouldn't be odd. Having two sets of twins for lunch."

"That and being glared at by Romano during the whole thing. Again." He was really hoping Romano wouldn't try to kill him this time. The last time they talked he seemed really angry. Hopefully this'll change that even just a little.

There was a knock at the door, making Ireland's heart pound against his chest. He walked quickly to the door and opened it slowly. Italy and Romano were standing outside, the younger Italian with a smile on his face the older with a deep frown.

"Ve~! Seamus~! I'm glad you invited me over!" Italy exclaimed happily.

"I'm glad too," Ireland said with a sincere smile.

"This better be good for making us go into your rainy-ass country."

"Don't worry, Romano," the Irishman replied, "It'll be worth the trip."

"You better not be lying to me." The Italian brothers walked in and sat on the couch near Northern Ireland. They've seen each other at meetings but never really talked. The northern part was more of a loner who talked to his brothers more than other countries. This is mostly why he tends to be shy around other nations.

"Ve~! So you're Northern Ireland?" Italy asked the man. The red-head stared at Italy a little hesitantly and began to studder.

"Ugh, ummm, yes. That's m-me."

"It's very nice to meet you!" Italy took both of Northern Ireland's hands and started shaking them wildly. "My name is Veneciano and this is my big brother, Romano! We both represent Italy!" Ireland's twin was a little stunned by the gesture and how cheerful the nation was.

"Ugh, i-i-it's a pl-pleasure to m-me-meet you t-two."

"Is it okay if I leave you alone with them while I finish preparing the meal?" Ireland asked.

"Y-Y-Y-Yeah, c-c-cinnte." (T: s-s-sure) Northern Ireland also has a tendency to start speaking in Gaelic when he gets nervous or worried.

"Hey, níl aon rud a imní faoi. Tá tú ag dul a bheith fíneáil." (T: Hey, there's nothing to worry about. You're going to be fine.)

"Ceart go leor..." (T: Okay...)

"Is everything okay, Seamus?" Italy asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me."

"Ve~!"

"Why do you studder?" Romano asked the nervous Irishman bluntly. He was about to answer when Italy piped in.

"Fratello! That's mean! You don't say things like that to people you first meet!"

"It was a question, Veneciano."

"You could've asked a little nicer though." The two started getting into a little arguement, Northern Ireland watching them in uncertainty.

_How does Ireland do all of this? These guys are way more outgoing than I expected. Maybe it's because Ireland himself has a more care free nature than I do. Still..._ Northern Ireland continued to watch them argue until his brother came in.

"I think it's ready," Ireland announced. The north western part of him sighed in relief as they all walked into the dining room. Ireland and his brother would be seated next to each other while Italy and Romano would be seated across from them. With seating arrangements assigned, Ireland went into the kitchen to bring out their meal. To Italy it shouldn't have been a surprise.

"Seamus! You made lasagna!"

"Well, actually we both made the lasagna. I needed a little help with it." Ireland looked over at his twin and smiled, who returned it with a small blush and a tiny smile.

"If you needed help, you could've asked me! I would've came over and given you some basics on making the sauce and everything!"

"I wanted to try and make it myself to see if you'd like it." Northern Ireland blushed at how blunt his older brother is. Italy smiled happily at the statement while Romano just rolled his eyes.

"That's so sweet, Seamus~!" As Italy said this, Ireland began cutting out pieces for everyone. It looked normal and had a very decent scent to it. Italy's would've smelled like heaven if he made it.

"I bet it's going to taste like shit," Romano commented while poking the food with his fork.

"Fratello! Why would you say something like that?"

"Because he's related to that English-bastard. I wouldn't be surprised if we ended up sick later tonight." Romano cuts out a piece and starts chewing on it. He keeps a very blank face as he chews up the Irish-made lasagna and swallows it.

"Well?" Ireland asked without any sign of being offended in his tone. "How is it?"

"It could be better but it's not exactly shit either." Italy cut out a piece and ate it to see what Romano meant.

"It's pretty good! It's not at all terrible like English food!" Italy said after tasting the attempted lasagna. Northern Ireland sampled the dish to see that it was good. If he had tasted Italy's food, he would've realized that Ireland's is okay compared to the Italian's gifted culinary skills.

The lunch went relatively well compared to when Ireland was invited to Italy's house. Romano did glare at him a few times and he gave Ireland looks when he and Italy said something loving, but there was no violence this time. Even Northern Ireland was beginning to enjoy himself. He was becoming less nervous around the two Italians and didn't studder as much. Ireland was also happy with the way their lunch turned out. Besides seeing Italy happy again, it's been a long time since the two Irelands have spent time like this together.

When everyone had finished, Ireland put the remains of the lasagna in a container for later. He then gathered up the plates and put them in the sink to begin cleaning the dishes. Northern Ireland followed him but he told him to go into the living room and relax. He did as told and sat on the couch to talk to the Italy twins.

Ireland wasn't cleaning for more than ten minutes when Italy walked in.

"Can I help, Seamus?" The Irishman turned around to see Italy's cheerful face looking at him hopefully.

"I'm good, Feliciano. There's not that much to clean."

"But, I want to help out." Ireland chuckled at his persistance.

"Okay, Feliciano. You can dry the dishes."

"Ve~!" Italy approached the sink and began drying off the plates Ireland had already cleaned. They were both quiet for a moment, doing their job in silence. Ireland decided now was the time to talk to Italy about why he's been avoiding him. Romano being distracted by Northern Ireland, this could be his only chance to talk to him alone.

"Hey, Feliciano."

"Ve~?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For avoiding you the past week. I'm so sorry I did that."

"It's okay. Everything is good now so there's no need to-"

"But I hurt you without meaning to."

"Then I forgive you. Is it okay now?"

"You don't know why I did it, though." Italy finally looked up at Ireland with his eyes opened. They showed him the hurt and sadness Italy went through because of him.

"The day we toured your country and Germany had to tell you something, I overheard your conversation with him."

"You did?"

"Only the part where he told you he was the Holy Roman Empire. After that, I knid of jumped to conclusions and thought you would leave me for him."

"What?! Why would you think that?! I would never do something like that!"

"I realize that now. I don't know why I thought that. And every time you tried to bring it up, I was afraid of what you'd tell me."

"But, Seamus, why would you think I'd want to be with him instead of you?"

"Because Spain told me a story from when you were little. He said that Holy Rome probably had a crush on you, and that he was probably jealous of me because we were so close."

"Oh, well, a long time ago I would've wanted that. But, I have you. Even if Holy Rome was with me the whole time I'm glad he came back to me. He even said it himself that he was okay with us being together. But, I guess you didn't hear that part."

Ireland started to tear up at Italy's words. He embraced the young nation for his own foolish mistake.

"I'm so sorry, Feliciano. I promise I'll never do that again."

"Don't cry, Seamus! Everything's okay now! So, you don't need to cry."

"You're right." Ireland pulled away, wiping his tears with his thumb. "There's no reason to cry if we're both happy, right?"

"Right!" They both smiled at each other before going back to cleaning the dishes. This was turning into a really nice afternoon.

_Things always work out fine in the end..._ Those words whispered in Ireland's ear like a calming melody. He smiled at to himself, peering at Italy from the corner of his eye. The younger nation was happy and had the most innocent smile on his face as he dried off the silverware.

_Indeed they do, North. Indeed they do._


	14. Buon San Valentino

The final chapter is up! It's a very special day for this couple as they go on another date. Love is deffinately in the air tonight and it's very contagious!

If the translations are wrong again, I'm sorry. Enjoy!

* * *

The rain poured down in sheets as Ireland worked diligently on his crops. He should've stopped 20 minutes ago but he was almost done. He just needed to finish the last four rows and then he'd go inside. He had a date with Italy tonight and he didn't want to make any delays.

"Hey, can you not tell how hard it's raining or are you planning to get sick?" Ireland looked up to see his younger twin walking towards him, work clothes on and a rake in his hands.

"It's only a few more rows! I'll be fine!" Ireland had to shout to his brother, the rain was coming down so hard.

"A few rows my ass! Do you not see how long they are?" Northern Ireland began working with the plant next to the one his older brother was on. "Look, I'll help you out so you're not late!" The younger Irish nation was aware of his brother's plans for this evening. Even if he wasn't informed, he knew that Ireland would have something to do tonight.

"Go raibh maith agat! Is mór agam do chúnamh, Deartháir!" (T: Thank you! I appreciate your assistance, Brother!) The two were slowly getting onto better terms again. Every now and then, Ireland would invite his brother to go drinking with him, or hang out at his house. They weren't arguing as much and when they did, it wasn't about anything serious. Ireland has even started addressing him as deartháir (brother) when they're together.

It was about 15 minutes later when they both finished the job. The rain was really coming down now.

"Come on! We'd better go inside!" Northern Ireland's voice could bearly be heard through the pouring rain. Ireland grabbed his wrist and led him in the direction of his house, putting their tools away before heading to the door. Once inside, they removed their drenched rain jackets, hats, and boots.

"Wow, it's really coming down," Ireland commented while looking out the window. He could bearly see anything except for one or two lights from his human neighbors' houses.

"You can't say that your crops will be more than quenched."

"You're telling me." Ireland looked at the clock on his wall. It read 6:15. He was suppose to arrive at Italy's house at 7:00. "I hope it lets up soon, though. I'm really going to be late."

"Maybe you should start getting ready now. Dry yourself off, change into a better set of clothes, and get to the ferry before they decide to delay or cancel."

"Yeah, that would be wise. I'll bring you a change of clothes too."

"Th-That's not necessary! I was planning on going home after this!"

"Nonsense! You're already soaked to the bone! You can stay here until I get back, can't you?"

"You'd be okay with it?"

"Yeah. Now stay here, I'll bring you a change of clothes." Ireland went upstairs to his room and pulled out some clothes for him and his brother to change into. He knew Northern Ireland prefered softer colors so he picked out a green T-shirt and brown pants for him, both colors neutral if only slightly darker. He also pulled out a pair of woolen socks, seeing as the night would be cold at his house. He had already prepared his clothing on the bed before he went outside. He then grabbed a towel from the bathroom and went dowstairs to his brother.

"Here. These were the lightest I could find." Ireland offered him the clothes and the towel. "Also," he pointed to the socks, "It's going to get colder as the night progresses. These will keep you warm. I'll get the fireplace ready before I leave."

"Go raibh maith agat, Deartháir." Northern Ireland gave him a small smile before his brother went back upstairs. He removed his shirt and let it fall to the floor, wiping up the rain water from his pale skin.

_Just like old times,_ he thought to himself. He blushed a little at the thought. _Maybe this isn't going to be as hard as I assumed it would._

Ireland quickly dried himself off and put on the clothes he laid out. He decided to be a little dressy this evening so he wore a white dress shirt, dark green trousers, a green sweater, and brown dress shoes. When he was dressed, he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He rarely ever dressed up except for church so his reflection was a little strange to him. Still, he looked very decent.

The Irishman gave his red hair a quick brush before going downstairs to his brother. Northern Ireland was just slipping on the wool socks when his older twin came down. He stared at the older nation for a moment before saying, "You look like you're in the United Kingdom again."

"I know. It's kind of weird." Ireland joked.

"I'm too use to seeing you in rags and with dirt all over your face."

"Well, at Italy's house, they judge you by how you dress so I can't go over there like that."

"It'd be amusing to see the looks on their faces." Northern Ireland smiled at the thought. His older brother chuckled at that same thought.

"It would." He looked up at the clock as it read 6:22. "I should probably be going. Let me set this up for you." He walked over to the fireplace, struck a match, and placed it in between a few logs. A small flame ignited the wood, taking it's time to spread. Ireland grabbed the fireplace poker but it was held down by his brother's hand.

"I can take it from here. Go so you're not late."

"Buíochas a lán, Thuaisceart Éireann." (T: Thanks a lot, Northern Ireland)

"Stop a chur ag gabháil buíochais liom agus fág cheana." (T: Stop thanking me and leave already.) Before Ireland left, he gave Northern Ireland the basic house rules and what to do in case of emergencies. After his twin assured him that everything will be fine when he returns home, Ireland put on his long coat, grabbed the umbrella, and walked out the door.

The rain had let up a little but it still came down pretty harshly. Ireland had to run to catch both ferries before they left the port. He had to take one from his country to his oldest brother, Wales. Then he had to take another one from England's port to France's. Any normal day he would've jumped over to them. Seeing as it was pouring down rain, there was a potential that Ireland would've slipped and fell into one of the channels or injure himself.

As he was walking through France's yard, the rain slowly began to stop. Ireland was able to put the umbrella away as he walked across Italy's border. Nighttime in Italy was beautiful. The sky was clear with a moon and billions of stars. The lights of the cities illuminated everything around them. Almost every citizen was alive this evening, making the atmosphere feel exciting and energetic.

By the time Ireland made it to Italy's house, it was 7:15. He was hoping Italy wasn't upset or that Romano wasn't going to find him and drag him to the house. If nothing, he'd rather Romano jump down his throat for being late. He knocked on the door and waited for either Italian nation to greet him.

"Ve~! I'm coming~!" Italy opened the door with a cheerful smile on his face. He was dressed in a red dress shirt, white trousers, and black dress shoes. He was deffinately dressed for the occastion.

"I'm sorry I'm late Feliciano," Ireland apologized, "It was raining awfully bad at my house and-"

"Ve~! It's okay~! As long as you made it, it's fine!" Italy let Ireland come in to hang up his coat and put his umbrella in a basket near the front door. Italy had already been ready by the time Ireland arrived, so all he had to do was shut everything off and lock the door.

"Is Lovino not here?" Ireland asked once he noticed the lack of yelling, glaring, or the presence of Romano.

"Oh, fratello spent the day with Big Brother Spain! Isn't that nice?"

"Yeah, it is. I was wondering when Lovino would give in."

"He never admits it but I know how he truly feels about Big Brother." Italy giggled as he snuggled into Ireland's arm.

Their first destination was a nice restaurant in town. It also happened to be the same one the two nations went to on Ireland's first visit to Venice. Italy ordered for them again but their waitor gave them a strange look when he was done. He looked at them, smiled, and told Italy something in Italian before he left. Ireland thought it was a bit weird but overlooked it. He still didn't understand Italians very well. It wasn't until the waitor brought them a huge plate of speghetti that Ireland understood.

They ate the speghetti together, Ireland thinking it was some kind of special for couples in Italy. He wasn't expecting it to mean anything else. Italy was going to teach him that, though.

"Seamus! Seamus!" Ireland looked up to see Italy holding a really long noodle on his fork. It was pointed directly at him, confusing the Irish nation. "Put this end into your mouth!"

"Why?"

"You'll see! It's really neat!" Ireland shrugged his shoulders, picked up one end of the noodle, and placed it in between his lips. Italy copied him then muttered, "Now you eat it normally." Italy indicated this by slipping the noodle into his mouth, bringing his face closer to Ireland's. The red-head blushed but did as Italy said. Without warning, Italy slurped on the whole noodle and brought their lips together. Ireland's face instantly went red. Italy pulled away with a giggle, eating up the noodle.

"Ugh, Feliciano? What was that?"

"That's how you enjoy pasta with someone you love." Ireland's face was as red as the sauce on their plate. Italy never failed to make his face flush different shades of red when they were together. He took a huge gulp of his wine to calm himself down.

After that, their date was pretty normal. Italy kept trying to feed Ireland with noodles hanging out of his mouth but he was always too shy to do it. They left the restaurant to walk around Venice. It was just as beautiful in the evening as it was during the day. The lamps placed in the streets seemed to set off a romantic mood. It was the perfect moment to walk around, hand-in-hand with the person you loved.

"Ve~! It's such a lovely evening~!"

"It really is." Ireland looked down at Italy's cheerful face and pecked his cheek. The Italian let out a happy 've' before something caught his eye.

"Oh, Seamus! Look!" Ireland turned around to see a couple riding in a gondula. Their love for each other was evident on their faces and by the way they gazed at the other. It made Ireland want to smile at their happiness.

"Oh, that's right," the older nation suddenly remembered, "We didn't get the chance to do that yet, did we?"

"Let's go in one, Seamus! I promise you'll like it!" Ireland chuckled at him before taking his hand and leading him to the next available gondula.

"Of course, Feliciano. I believe you." They both laid in the boat, side by side, as the man got ready to push them into the canal. It felt nice for Ireland to lay down so close to Italy. The night sky above them had darkened even more, the stars shining brightly in an alluring way. The sound of the man rowing the gondula through the water was a soothing sound to their ears. There was nothing that could upset this peaceful moment.

"Ve..." Italy nuzzled against Ireland's chest affectionately, his little curl bobbing slightly as he did so. "Ti amo, Seamus..." (T: I love you) Ireland looked down at the nation who was laying his head comfortably on his chest. His heart hammered against his ribs as he thought about what to do.

"Feliciano..." He cupped Italy's cheek and moved it up so that the man was looking at him. He leaned forward and kissed his boyfriend on the lips. It was the most heart-felt, passionate kiss he had ever given Italy. The younger nation closed his eyes slowly as he felt every bit of Ireland's emotions slip through him. It was overwhelming but beautiful at the same time.

Too soon for either of their liking, Ireland pulled away with a blushing face. To his surprise, Italy was blushing just as hard, his eyes half-lidded.

"Love tú, freisin," (T: I love you, too) he said while blushing a little deeper. Italy smile up at him, still red in the face. He brought his hand to Ireland's head and brought it back down to his. They continued to kiss each other passionately until the ride was over. Though, separating seemed unfathomable, they had to get out of the boat for the next pair of lovers.

Tonight was the night when couples came together for the purpose of love. This evening, in the streets of Venice, romance would consume the hearts of every individual. Even the hearts of two nations couldn't escape love's grasp that night. Tonight was February 14th, the night when lovers celebrate.


End file.
